Dog of the Military
by Black Raven 2539
Summary: Never did he think about joining the military, ever. But one day a little letter changed it all. His life's taking on a course least followed. Now all he can do is survive. Present time fic 2003,do not have AIDS.Going from T, for violence. REVIEW PLEASE
1. Letter

Setting: Takes place present time, slightly in past,( a couple of years). They don't have AIDS. Other than that it's the same and completely different story.

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><p>I wake up, the sun shining through the blinds onto my face.<p>

"Good Morning Angelcake." I mumble sleepily and search the bed for her familiar figure.

I open my eyes to find that the bed was empty. The smell of coffee wafts into the bedroom. _She's probably in the living room, she's such a early bird_ I thought. I sit up and rub my eyes and head towards the bathroom to relieve myself. I brush my teeth, and groom my goatee, shaving off the 5:00 shadow creeping in. I splash my face with cooling water before drying off with a nearby towel and head towards the living room.

I smell coffee brewing and I see Angel in her black tanktop and Mickey Mouse pajama bottoms holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

"Good Morning Angelcake." I say but she doesn't respond.

I approach her and I realize that she's crying. I sit down next to her on the couch and wrap her in my arms.

"What's wrong? It'll be okay, I'll always be right here." I say comfortingly, but saying this only sends her into hysterics. _What did I do?_ I think to myself. She sets down her coffee and hold me tighter around my waist, with the piece of paper still in her hand.

She literally squeezed me, gripping me as if I was goin somewhere. The piece of paper touches my bare back, pricking me uncomfortably with its pointy corners. I grab it from her hand. Then I see my name addressed to it, a document more than a letter. She cries harder as I start to read it:

_**To Sir Tom Byron Collins of #24th Housing Unit of Apartment Complex C of 1530 Avenue B, East Village, New York:**_

_You are hereby ordered by the United States Military for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report at __**US Army Recruiting Station **__of __**688 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY**__ on the date of __**May 13th**__at __**15:00 (3pm) **__sharp for induction into the United States Army._

There was a whole lot of other crap with it but I knew what it meant. I just knew one thing as I clutched the paper in my hand, and wrapped my arms around Angel: I was being drafted into the Army.

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><p>(2 hours later)<p>

"They can't do this! They just can't!" I yell as I put on my shoes. "They can Collins, they can." Angel says sadly, too depressed to wear drag.

"This can't be happening Ang! I can't go into the damn motherfucking Army! I don't want to go into the Army! I'm perfectly happy staying here than going over somewhere to shoot a whole bunch of stupid ass people who think war is the answer!" I yelled in frustration.

"Neither do I want you to Collins, but- but we have to figure something out." Angel said teary- eyed, tears once again starting to fall once more down her cheeks.

I walk over to her and wipe away her tears and embrace her.

"Shh, It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna do something to get out of this." I whispered in her ear. I kissed her lovingly, giving her reassurance too. We left the apartment, the letter that brought so much despair in a seemingly supposed to be wonderful Friday morning tucked into my back pocket as we head to the loft…

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><p>(Mark's Perspective)<p>

The loft was unusually quiet for five people to be in a room at once. Joanne was simply do lawyerly things with a whole bunch of papers on our coffee table. Roger and Maureen were playing a game console thing called a PS2. Maureen kept complaining on how we should get the new X-Box 360 that came out a while ago, but she forgets that were freaking broke and she refuses to pitch in with at least some of the money required to get a new one.

I filmed Roger getting frustrated as Maureen kept on winning.

"Hey you can't do that! Quit kicking me when I'm on the floor!" Roger yells as he furiously smashes the buttons on the controller.

"Yes I can, and I will! KIIYAAH!" Maureen says over dramatically as she kicks Roger's character again, killing him.

"Ha Ha 25 to 3 Roger! I am the winner, the Queen of Tekken 4!" She yells falling on her back her legs sprawled out. Roger grumbles and walks away over to Mimi, who was looking at a old fashion magazine.

I turn off my camera realizing I just wasted film on filming Roger and Maureen play a stupid video game. Joanne just shakes her head laughing at Maureen's little act.

The front door slides open and Collins and Angel arrive looking very…sad and depressed, which is so unusual for them I was kinda shocked and confused.

"Mimi-chica!" Angel cried as he runs towards Mimi, knocking Roger off the couch and onto the floor taking his place.

"Ouch Angel! Damn what was that for?" Roger says rubbing his back.

Angel buries his head in her shoulder crying loudly completely ignoring Roger as Collins walked in slowly from behind, a look of despair riddled across his face.

"Chica what's wrong?" Mimi asks Angel hugging her best friend.

"Coll- Collins is- is going-" Angel cried unable to finish his sentence.

"Collins, what did you do?" Mimi asked him, and his frown deepened even more.

"Why do you think I did something? I didn't do anything, the damned government did."

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to me. My eyes widened in disbelief as I read it. "My God..." I say, saddened by the news the document brings.

"What?" Roger, Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne say, wanting to know what happened.

"Collins has been drafted into the Army." I say sadly, and a collective gasp was heard. Now I understand why they were so sad.

"No fucking way! They can't do that!" Roger yelled outraged, but his eyes showing hurt and pain from the news. I passed the document to the others, each one reading it. Maureen started cry almost as bad as Angel when she read it, this time there was no over exaggeration, it was what she really felt.

"They can, and they probably will. It's the damn government, they can do whatever the hell they want." Collins says angrily, sitting next to Angel, who turns and cries into Collins' black and white layered shirt.

"When do you have to go?" Mimi asked softly.

"I- I don't know, but I have to be at the Recruitment Station three days from now at three pm."

"Where is that at?" Roger asks.

" 688 Avenue of the Americas" Collins says sarcastically, of course a Army Recruitment Station would be on a road like that.

"I'll drive you there." Joanne offered.

"Thanks." Collins says solemnly.

"Noo! Collins is going into the military!" Maureen wailed, crying for her best friend.

"No I won't, not if I can do anything about it." Collins said with uncertainty.

The rest of the day we all just sat there silently, looking at the paper, the simple piece of paper that was threatening to snatch away our dearest friend…


	2. Truth

Ok so I didn't leave a disclaimer last time. Sorry. J.L owns Rent relevance, characters, and stuff.

Ok on with the next chapter! P.S. I f you want to see something happen, then just review suggestions and review me please! I'll always appreciate it!

x-x-x-x

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><p>3 Days later…<p>

"WHAT THE HELL YOU MEAN I CAN'T GET OUT OF THE ARMY!" I yell at the still very calm recruiter.

"Would you please refrain from yelling please? Now, you were drafted sir, did you not sign a document at the age of eighteen to be allowed to be drafted?" He said calmly.

"Well- well, yeah- yeah I did, but you know damn well its required by law! That's not fair!" I say, angry that he's playing this sort of game, like sending me over to my death is nothing.

"Please refrain from swearing please."

"If I continue, will it get me out of the military?"

"No."

"Damn."

"Sorry sir. The government needs soldiers and is in high demand, they make random draft selections sir." He pulls my file on his computer and shows me it. Indeed there was a document, with my signature, saying I could be drafted.

My photo shown and personal information also, everything about me the government could possibly know.

"But I'm not allowed in!" I say to him as he swivels the screen back.

"How is that sir?" He says to me, his eyes unconvinced.

"I'm gay! And I have criminal charges! How the hell am I supposed to be in the military! Last time I heard they didn't allow that!" I say, desperately trying to get out of this.

"You haven't heard have you? The United States allows homosexuals to participate in the military. Though that ban was uplifted a while ago. Also you have no charges."

"The hell! I know I had charges! I was arrested twice for God's sake! I'll even tell you, so you could put it on my record so you won't have a choice but to not enlist me! One was for public indecency and civil disobedience when I ran naked through the Parthenon, the other was for freaking possession! How can Uncle Sam enlist someone like that!" I say although his expression doesn't change.

" 'Uncle Sam' didn't over look it. Your file says that you went to court and your lawyer, a Joanne Jefferson, won your case, and your charges acquitted and dropped. You basically have no criminal record." He again swivels the screen and I see the court case results, and it was true. _Damnit Joanne, sometimes I wish you weren't such a good lawyer._ I thought tilting my head back into the chair in devastation.

"Damn."

"Sorry sir, but meet all the requirements needed to be enlisted. Welcome to the Armed Forces. You will receive a letter in the mail."

I stand up from the chair and leave, emotions of sadness, anger and defeat swirling within me. I step into Joanne's awaiting car outside. "So… how did it go?" Joanne says expectantly as she pulls off. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I tell her,

"I can't get out of it, I'm officially a dog of the fucking military."

"I'm sorry Collins. I really am." I stare out the window, watching the New York buildings go in a blur, wondering how in the hell I was gonna tell Angel…

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><p>6 days later<p>

I opened the letter that I had been hesitating to open ever since it came in this morning. I read it and sighed. I was to leave with other new recruits to go to the Recruitment Station for departure on May 29th.

Just ten days.

I have ten days left to spend with Angel. Ten more days left to spend with Mark, Maureen, Joanne, Roger and Mimi. It said to bring nothing but necessities for a period of six months. Six months I would have to be away from them, away from my Angel.

I hide the letter as Angel comes walking in, and sits next to me.

"So what does it say?" Angel says, apparently knowing about the letter.

"Um… what letter?" I say weakly, trying to confuse her.

"The letter under your butt, Collins. Don't try to get out of this, it's already too late." Angel say looking at me with her stern chocolate brown eyes. I give in and sigh and take out the letter, no use of hiding it when she already knew the truth.

"Um, a whole lot of shit, but basically I'll be leaving soon." I say, tossing the letter on the coffee table.

Me and Angel had long since accepted my, no our fate of me going into the Army. There was nothing we could do, no way out, so we just accepted it. But it doesn't mean I couldn't hear Angel cry at night over it.

"Soon. In ten days to go to some Military Academy Training shit." I say not wanting to give her the rest of the information. "For how long?" She asks. I stayed silent, maybe she'll just stop asking.

"How long Collins?" I look at her and those brown eyes I can't seem to resist start boring into me looking for answers.

"Six months, six months I'll be at USMA or West Point." I say, scratching my head through my beanie. She gives me a hug, and I return it, cherishing every moment…

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><p>3 hours later, at the loft<p>

"So you're leaving in just ten days!" Maureen exclaimed after Angel and I told the news of my departure.

"Damn, why you Collins? It's not gonna be the same without you. How is an anarchist gonna work for the government?" Roger said slouching in his favorite chair.

"Yeah, I'll even miss breaking you out of jail every time you do something stupid." Joanne said depressed.

"Good thing you still have Roger." Mimi said jokingly, although seriously downed by the news.

"Don't get me started on Roger he already has a file as big as my hand, it just won't be the same without Collins."

"Yeah like the time me, you, and Maureen got detained for that riot. Remember they were prying Roger off the stage, and he hit that cop in the head with his guitar?" I said remembering that fucked up, high as hell night.

"Yeah, and you and Maureen were screaming 'Anarchy! Evolution! Justice screaming for solution!' while Maureen was being carried over the crowd." Roger added.

"But Collins was the crazy one there. He was evading the police, and started lighting shit on fire. He was high as fuck, and I'm surprised he remembers any of it." Maureen said.

"Yeah, but it'll be all gone soon." Roger said, and everyone kinda went back into their depression.

"Guys! Guys! I know this is really, really bad news but we should all celebrate Collins while he's still here." Mark says to all of us.

"Yeah, we should, like- like a going away party!" Mimi said getting excited. _Hey that didn't sound too bad. A party is always a good idea, including when your partying with these guys_.

"Yeah! Like five parties in a row! It's a party-fest!" Maureen says jumping in the air dramatically. Totally psyched about the party-fest I spin around dramatically next to my best friend.

"It is settled! We will have a five day party in honor of the departure of yours truly." I say matter of factly taking a bow, which everyone chuckles to.

"So where do we start?" Mark asks.

"Duh my little albino pumpkinhead! The life Café! Let's go give our little host the biggest headache he's ever gotten!" I say laughing at Mark, who turns bright red at the mention of his nickname.

Everyone agrees and we leave out the door, getting pumped up for the epic time we were going to have…

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><p>"Yooo! Bernie! What's up!" I say at our favorite host as we walked in.<p>

"It's Bernard, and what are you doing here? Don't come here if you can't pay." He said, looking at me.

"I'm goin' away! Haven't you heard? I'm gonna be in the Army." I tell him.

"Yippe for you." Bernie say uninterested, looking at his podium.

"Aww don't be like that! You'll know you'll miss me!" I say playing around with him.

"No, I won't. Just don't die out there, kay? Table for 7?" He says, still acting uninterested. _So he really does care, aww_. _He cares even though he hates me so_.

"No, not seven, more like twenty."

"Sorry we don't have a table or booth that could hold twenty."

"It's okay, we'll improvise." I say chuckling as we and the rest of the bohos from east village come walking in. The gang had basically told every boho we crossed the news and apparently about the party too.

"Wait! Hold on! Don't push the tables together!" Bernie calls out, but goes ignored as we push the tables together. We all sat down as our favorite jerry-curled waiter comes in to take our order.

"Hey Collins! What's the big crowd for? Did you guys cause another riot?" The flamboyant waiter ask, placing his hand on his hip.

"Naah, I wish Chris. This is a going away party." I say to him.

"For who?" Chris asked looking at all of us.

"Collins! Collins is going away to the Army! Can you believe that shit Chris!" Suzie yelled from across the table. _Always to speak her mind, our frizzy blonde haired writer, that we love oh so much._ Chris looks at me appalled.

"Really?"

"Yep, its all true."

"Well I guess this is all on the house." Chris said matter of factly.

"Niice." Roger says grinning. "What would you like to drink?"

"WINE AND BEER!" We all yell at once.

We all talked and celebrated, many times retelling stories, and sipping beers and glasses of wine. All of the sudden, Maureen climbs on the table declaring with her glass of wine in her hand,

"We should toast to Collins! The bestest friend in the whole entire WORLD!" she says a bit too loud.

"I remember the time when I first met Collins. He was flipping awesome! I was walking down the street when I saw him messing around with some electrical box on 24th street." I smile, remembering that time.

"I was wondering what he was doing, since he didn't look like a regular worker so I asked him. He said Oh nothing really, causing havoc the norm. He said it like it was a normal thing to do, and I loved it. Oh really I said to him and all he did was smirk that mischievous smirk we've always seen. And he closed the box and flipped on a switch on a hand held remote. All the lights and stoplights on that block went crazy! It was hilarious! He ran away and I followed him, of course. And that was the beginning of a wonderful mischief filled friendship. To Collins!" Maureen exclaimed way too loudly, the third cup of wine getting to her head.

"TO COLLINS!" everyone cheered.

One by one people got up on the table, telling stories of me, or how I caused havoc, or how we met, or a combination of the three. Our food came, and my favorite meal came steaming hot. Meatless Meatballs, delicious.

"Eww." A familiar voice said.

"Roger, why must you hate my food so much?" I say to him.

He chuckles "Cause Collins, that's just not normal."

"A lot of things aren't normal Roger. Like your inability to write a new song or the fact you wear black nail polish, even though that went out of style like five years ago." I say chuckling at Roger.

"Well what about- what about, never mind, hell I've got nothing." Roger says laughing as he gulps his beer. We all talked and ate, until it was time to go, and at least everyone was thoroughly buzzed.

"To the loft! Paaartaayy" Mark slurred.

"Stoli timeee!" I said along with him, grinning uncontrollably. Everyone followed, heading toward the last party I would have in six months…

Five nights and days we spent partying, drinking, smoking, and getting high as fuck. It was the time of my life.

However, when the five days were up, all that was left was preparation for my departure. The days spent preparing and quitting my job at NYU regretfully, to which my awfully faithful students were sad to hear of, and the nights spent with my precious Angel, the one person I couldn't stand to be away from. Love and passion, tears and comfort were spent in that last night, knowing in the morning that I would be gone…

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><p><strong>Okay okay I know the ending sucked soooo bad. But I didn't want it to be all gloomy, so I put in a party, is that so bad? Review and make me feel better! Lol, I just love putting ellipses at the end of my chapters! Lol. TotALL RanDOmNeSs!<strong>


	3. Departure

**A/N: Ok, how was last chapter? I don't think it was good as it should have been and I am SORRY. Here in this chapter is where the real military stuff comes in. Most of the story from now on will be switching from Collins/military life and Angel/regular life (does that makes sense?). And I'll try to be good by RENT and the ARMY. I hope I get things accurate; I've been doing A LOT of research on this too.**

**An OC character is introduced in this chapter! I hope you like him/her (not telling the gender, because you have to read to find out)!**

**P.S- If anybody reading this has been in the ARMY/Military hmu please, so I can get to the personal side of being in it. Not that I don't plan to go in myself when I turn 18 (which I do, that's what drew me to write this).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own RENT sorry. J.L owns all. OC's are mine. And there will be a lot of OC's, trust me.**

**I'll eventually make a list. Maybe. On with the fic!**

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><p><em><strong>In front of Recruitment Station, May 29th, 6:25a.m.<strong>_

"So this is it?" Mark says to me as I and other recruits wait for the bus to arrive.

"Yep, I guess so. You guys didn't have to get up so early just to see me off, ya know. It's so early." I say to the gang looking at all of them, who were bleary-eyed, especially Maureen since she was still in her pajamas.

"It's okay Collins we don't mind. We all wanted to, there's no way we couldn't say bye." Mark says rubbing his eyes.

"But it's six in the morning." I say.

"It's okay, I had to go early into the office anyway, on the other hand Maureen was a bit harder to get up." Joanne says, looking at Maureen who was yawning loudly.

"I'll miss you Collins." Angel says to me in a whisper.

"I'll miss you too Angel. I'll be thinking of you everyday." I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. She shudders in my arms, and I look at her to see that she's crying again.

I wipe away her tears, and tenderly stroke her hair (**A/N: she's in drag**).

"It's gonna be okay. I won't be gone for long, I promise Ang, so don't be sad please. I'll call, I'll write, and I'll do anything to keep in contact. We'll stay in touch, so there's no need to cry. I'll be back, who knows? Maybe I'll get out early for bad behavior." I say to her. _That's what I intend to do, then they wouldn't have a choice but to kick me out, and then I could get on with my life._

"No, don't do that Collins. I know you, and I know that you would actually try to do it. If you're going now, then you should stick with it. Succeed; like you always have, don't dropout because of me, I'll be okay. Make me proud; make me smile, to know that these six months would be worth it." Angel said to me, looking up at me, sincerity and compassion in her eyes.

_She's always thinking for the better of me, this time I wish she hadn't. I wish she would indulge and be selfish for once, so then maybe I wouldn't have to go, and I could continue to hold her in my arms like this forever._

"Okay, I won't, and apparently you do know me too well. I'll go through with it, for you Angel." Our lips crush together and connect in a sense of longing need, knowing that this will be as much as we'll both get for six months. How can our relationship last if what's dividing us was not only time, but the distance and the very government as well?

I hear sniffling and I'm brought out of my euphoric moment with Angel. I look over to see that it's Mo crying.

"Aww Mo, don't you cry too! I'll be back! I won't be gone for long! It's not like I'm gonna be gone forever! I'll still be in state! Think of it as me going to MIT for six months or somethin' instead of the military." I say trying desperately to comfort my best friend.

"But you'll still be gone! My best- best friend is going away, and I can't go with you! We won't have fun anymore! It'll be boring without you! We can't go mooning cops anymore, or start anymore riots! I'll be stuck with a whole bunch of boring people, except Mimi, Pookie, and Angel!" Maureen wailed dramatically.

"Hey!" Roger and Mark say, offended that they weren't included.

"Aww! I love ya Mo!" I say as I walk over to her a hug her.

A black Range Rover skidded to a halt, and a flustered Benny stepped out.

"Am I…too late?" he says gasping walking over.

"No, the bus hasn't come yet. Why are you so out of breath?" I ask him, raising my eyebrow curiously.

"Because I…was rushed. I didn't know… you were leaving. Found out today. This morning. Ten minutes ago." Benny said breathing heavily. "How did you find out?"

"Mark, told me. Ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes…Wait that can't be true. You live on the other side of town. A good thirty minute drive by car, so you couldn't have heard it from Mark ten minutes ago." I said doing the math in my head.

"That doesn't add up. At all."

"He really did just find out ten minutes ago, Collins. I called him at the payphone down the street, before you actually saw us." Mark mumbled, tinkering with his camera.

"So, how did you get here so fast and why are you out of breath, you didn't answer my question."

"I have a really, really, really big house okay? And my car was a little out of reach. Dressing in two minutes didn't help either. I got here so fast, because, I ran quite a few lights and stop signs to get here before you left. We may not be as close as we used to, but you're still a friend. I just wanted to say bye." Benny says finally catching his breath.

"Where's Muffy?" Roger asks. "It's Alison for the four hundredth time, and she couldn't make it, she's at her parents' house. I told her on the way here, and she said to tell you that she sends her best wishes."

I smile at him, "Thanks for coming Benny cause' it means a lot, and tell her I said thanks too." He smiles his charming grin, which I remembered from so long ago.

"Just one thing."

"What?" Benny says looking at me quizzically.

"If I hear that you turned off the power, heat, water, or evicted my Angel while I'm at West Point, I'm gonna come straight home and put my semi-armified boot up your ass. Got it?" I say jokingly, but then again in all seriousness. Everyone chuckles and Benny just smiles.

"Yeah, I get it Collins, this is a special condition. I can wait out the rent for six months."

"GROUP HUG!" Maureen said rather loudly, the other recruits staring at us before going about their own business, though some continued to watch. We all joined in at the request of Maureen.

I saw Benny standing out to the side, not entirely sure if it meant him too. I smile and pull him into the group hug, which he accepts.

_If he came all the way just to say bye, then he deserves to be included._

The bus screeched to a halt by the curb, and we all ended the crushing group hug. I pick up the large, almost overstuffed duffel bag (thanks to Angel, and a volume of Modern Philosophy) holding my necessities and slung it over my shoulder, settling on my back with a thump. "Goodbye Collins." Angel says as she hugged me.

"Goodbye Angel." I give her one last kiss, one that wasn't so easy to part with. So much emotion flowed within that last kiss, and I didn't want it to stop.

"MAGGOTS! GET ON THE BUS!" yelled a very strict military looking man. Our lips parted unwillingly, both of us knowing that I had to leave. I give her one last hug before I walk towards the bus. I wave to my friends and they wave back.

I step onto the somewhat crowed bus and head towards the very back, to the last seat. As the bus drives off, I look behind me and look through the glass. I see Angel crying into Mimi's shoulder, both Benny and Roger comforting her, while Mark films the bus leaving. I quickly turn around; not wanting that to be my last memory of home, but it was too late, as I saw how hard of an impact my leaving was going to be on Angel…

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><p><strong>End of part 1 of chapter it was a part chapter. I was getting sleepy, and I don't care what time fan fiction says it is, fast forward about 4 hours. I am tired! It's like almost 12 at night for me right now, but I have people waiting on an update so I had to update. REVIEW and you'll get part 2, which really gets into military stuff.<strong>

**I said there was going to be an OC introduced in this chapter, I lied, but I'm too lazy to scroll to the top and delete it. They will be introduced next chappie, which I have already started on. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, that's all I can say.**

**ToTaL RaNDoMnEsS!**


	4. Arrival

**A/N: This is part two to chapter 3, ending the filler-transition period.**

**An OC character is introduced in this chapter! I hope you like him/her (not telling the gender, because you have to read to find out)!**

**Disclaimer: I'm just gonna start repeating my disclaimers from now on. Every one seems to say that I don't own RENT or any of its characters, but in a different way each time. Wait, isn't that what I'm doing right now? Oh, well I'm keeping it, I typed too much already.**

I look out through my side window as I mentally prepare myself for whatever's ahead. I hate this. I hate leaving Angel like this. I hate it. I take out the few photos I brought with me from out of my checkered shirt pocket. I flip through them, looking back on the memories, and the friends, I'll be leaving behind.

I glance up, a conversation striking my attention. Through all the excess noise and conversations, I continue to strain to listen to the male voices.

"…Can you believe it? They are letting THEM in the military. It's so wrong. They just need to stay home, or something, not bring their gayness into the military. The military is just gonna be some huge corrupted mess, with everybody kissin' each other. Gross." "Yeah, I even saw a few of those things out there at the recruitment center kissing up on their… whatever they call it. It's nasty. I saw at least five of them, one guy had like eight around him, boys and girls. Eww. Talk about open relationship. That's how they be spreadin' all these fucking diseases everywhere…"

I shut them out, my anger starting to boil inside me. Great. Just fucking great. Already I'm facing prejudice, and they haven't even got to know me yet. I know that last comment was about me, but that interpretation was way off the mark, and so nasty. Eww. They're the nasty ones if they could think that… eww.

I shake my head quickly getting rid of that image, though the grimace still stays. I put my pocket, tucking them away safely from harm. I open my duffel bag and reach for the heavy hardback book that I brought, my only sense of entertainment. I lean against the window as I leaf through the pages til I find my last stopping point. I read about a good three pages before someone interrupts me.

"Vatcha reading?" I look over my book to see a young woman looking at me. "Are you talking to me?" I asks her, not entirely sure. "I don't zee anyone elze reading a book, do you?" She says smiling, speaking in a deep Russian accent. "Um, I'm reading Modern Philosophy. And I guess not. Um, hi? I'm Tom Collins, but just Collins." I put down my book and extend my hand, which she shakes. "Collinz huh? Nice name. My namez Anita Milkovich. Nice to meet you." "Same here." I say as she lets go of my hand. "Juzt moved back here, after hearing those baztards talking up dere. Then I zaw you." She say leaning towards me, though not invading my space thankfully. "Zo, are you ready to become a soldier?" Anita asks me, her heavy accent really coming through the more comfortable she gets to talking with me. I shake my head. "No, I want the opposite, I rather be back home, with my friends and, other uh… yeah." I say stopping in my tracks not wanting to give away any information of my personal life to a stranger. However nice they may seem. "Oh, I zee, no more questions. I get it. But, why are you in the military if you don't vants to be? And why are you reading Modern Philozophy?" She asks, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. "I thought you said no more questions?" I say smiling at her inquisitiveness. "Vait, I did zay dat didn't I? But could you anzer the question? Please?" I look at her face, and the look she gives me resembles a little kid asking for twenty-five cents to buy a piece a bubble gum. I smile and attempt not to laugh. "I never asked to be in the military, I was drafted. I'm reading Modern Philosophy, because I used to be a Computer Age Philosophy professor at NYU, before this." "But why do you still read it?" I look at the book pondering in thought for a moment, trying to formulate an answer. Why was I reading this? My new job no longer required me to read this like NYU used to, so why am I? "Oh, well, I guess it kinda reminds me of home. The underpaid wages, the 75 papers to grade almost every other night. The perplexed faces on my students when I talk about theories and the excitement as well, when I told them about my Theory of Actual Reality. Philosophy does interest me, it does, but this book, I guess reminds me more of home." I look up at her and find her still staring at me. "What?" I ask her, wondering what else she tempting to ask me. "Oh, it'z nothing. You zeem like a very nice perzon."

"Okay, well, what about you? Did you volunteer?" I ask her. She shakes her head no. "Nuh- uh, drafted like you. Zee government took me away from my precious babies." "Babies? You mean you had kids, and they still drafted you? Made you leave them?" I say in disbelief. I knew I hated the government for a lot of reasons, but this just took my hatred to a whole new level. "Ah yez, but you zee, it's not so bad. My little Viktor will take care of them while I'm gone. He'z a big boy." Anita said smiling, but sadness filled her voice. " How old was he? If you don't want to say anything about it it's okay." "No, no, it'z fine. Viktor is nineteen, little Ivan is only five, and Ivana iz five also, they were twins." She says in a day dreamy tone.

This was wrong. This was so wrong. Take away a mother from her kids? Just like that, without any care? "So what about you? Do you have anyone at home?" Anita asked.

"Um yeah, but I'm not exactly close, but I friends who are just like family. It's just-"

"AAALRIGHT MAGGOTS! WELCOME TO YOUR LIVING NIGHTMARE FOR THE NEXT 6 MONTHS! FOR THE NEXT 6 MONTHS YOU WILL EAT WHEN I SAY EAT! YOU WILL SLEEP WHEN I SAY SLEEP! YOU WILL DO WHATEVER A COMMANDING OFFICER WILL TELL YOU TO DO! WELCOME TO WEST POINT…" screamed a the military man to all the recruits.

I looked at Anita to make a joke about the officer, but she was already sucked into his words, sinking into military policy like quicksand. I shake my head, knowing it's a lost cause to try and make her rebel… oh Maureen I wish you were here I think as lay my head against the window pane…


	5. Road Trip

Weeks went by. Months slowly passed, yet all stayed the same. Except one thing. The absence of Collins, the silence never too far from any situation. Gatherings at the Life seemed a little more chill, not as exciting as they used to be.

Angel would receive occasional letters from Collins (the academy not allowing no other contact other that outgoing letters, soldiers- in training not allowed to receive incoming letters from family or friends), asking how she was and the gang was doing, and sometimes stories or tales of his time at training ranging from being locked in a room exposed to CS gas to being chased by an attack dog in training named Buster. He told of his bad behavior, to which Angel fussed at an inanimate letter, and then vented to the bohos about his behavior like she was his mom. He told them of friends he met particularly of a few named Anita Milkovich, Wesley Dorns, and James Bridgers. He wrote on how it was basically college classes and high school P.E. on drugs all at once. But the last letter he sent wasn't a letter at all. It was an invitation. An invitation to his graduation. That was a week ago, but now all hell is breaking loose…

Mark's Perspective

"Mark! Do not bring your damn camera!" Roger yelled at me while trying to find his other black boot.

We were late meeting with the others and plus a two hour drive still awaited us for us to be on time for Collins' graduation. We were never really on time for anything, but this was a special occasion.

"Why not? We should capture it on film. It's a special occasion." I whined.

"No! You bring that camera everywhere, and you say every occasion is a special occasion! You have a whole roll of film named Roger eating Captain Crunch!" He countered, finally finding his shoe under the couch.

"So what? I was bored."

"Bored like the time you filmed an ant walking on the sidewalk? For a whole hour?"

"I- I don't know, I was bored too back then."

"You are not bringing that camera, if you do; I'm tossing it on the highway." Roger finalized, putting on his jacket.

"Fine." I said, putting it on the counter.

"Forgot my ring…" Roger muttered going back into his messy room. I quickly put my camera in my tan messenger bag, along with a fresh roll of film. I sling it over my shoulder and wrap my scarf around my neck. Roger comes back, his ring properly on his hand.

"Ready to go?" I ask. "Yep. Let's go." We leave our messy loft, heading towards the life…

"There you guys are!" Mimi exclaimed as we see them waiting by a rented SUV. "Sorry, Roger was taking forever to dress." I explain.

"Me? It was you Mark, and your damn camera! It had nothing to do with me!"

"You took a whole hour to dress! How can it not be your fault?" I said pushing up my glasses.

"Who forgot to set the alarm? You did Mark! This was your fault!"

"Roger you have your own alarm clock! You could have just set the goddamn-"

"STOP IT ALREADY! DAMN!" Mimi yelled, silencing us both. "Yeah, you and Roger have been arguing all week." Angel said tiredly. "You guys have been wearing me out with all this arguing. I could hear you guys fighting last night from MY apartment." Mimi said.

"We were not fighting. It was just cause fat ass over here-" Roger started.

"Do I look fat to you! This emo drama king over here's just mad cause-"

"- you ate all the Captain Crunch!"

"I did not! There wasn't anything in there anyways!"

"See! You did eat it!"

"No I didn't! You did! You drank all the coffee too!"

"No I didn't, you did last week!"

"No, I didn't cause I was drinking tea all last week, since there wasn't any milk to put in coffee, much less our disappearing cereal!" I yelled at Roger, who got huffy in his dramatic way.

"You scrawny little-"

"You, little drama king, get your ass in the SUV NOW! You, toothpick blonde topped albino, get your ass in the SUV now!" yelled an irritated Maureen pointing at us, shoving both of us toward the car. I did as I was told, knowing full well how Maureen could get when she's angry, but she way too angry, angrier than I've ever seen here before.. I got in a seat, far away from Roger as possible. "But Maureen, I'm not scrawny I-" Maureen slammed the door in my face. I sit there idly doing nothing, playing with my fingers, even though I want to tinker with my camera so bad, but afraid to bring it out, afraid that Roger might actually toss it on the street…

(Mimi's Perspective)

I watched a tempered Maureen all but toss a fighting Mark and Roger in the SUV, which Joanne was climbing into the driver's seat. "I'M TIRED OF THOSE TWO SHITS FIGHTING!" Maureen yelled wildly. Oh god, this can only mean one thing. Maureen must be crazy or she's on her period. God help us all if she is either one of the two. Angel and I climb into the back, me next to a grumbling Roger, while fuming Maureen takes the passenger seat. We sit down, in our seats while Joanne punches in the address of West Point in a GPS system in the front.

"So, Angel, are you ready to see Collins?" I ask her after Joanne finally pulls off, still trying to calm an irritated Maureen. "Yes! I can't wait! It's been so long, not being able to talk to him at all. I just wanna smother him in kisses when I see him." "I bet he'd enjoy that." I commented.

"SHUT UP!" Maureen yelled.

"Maureen, It's Mimi and Angel talking, not Roger and Mark." Angel soothed, knowing well how Maureen could get being on her P.

"Oh. Well if I hear a peep from Mark and Roger, I'm tossing them on the free way, while we're rolling." Maureen threatened.

Roger looked at me incredulously and mouthed 'what is wrong with her?' I shook my head and turned back to Angel.

"I hope Maureen can get hold of her senses, before she sees Collins." "Oh God yes, please. Chica, can you just imagine what'll happen?" Angel wondered. "Oh gosh yes, she'll probably pummel Collins, like she did last time." I murmured, knowing it was dangerous to talk about Maureen when she was in this state, so close. "I don't think so honey. If she touches Collins before I do, there will be hell to pay. Sorry, darlin' but that's just how it's gonna be. You will have to wait in line." Angel said smiling. "Oh yeah Angel?" I say questioningly. "Oh yes." "Girlie, you are too much" "Honey, I'm not too much, but just enough." Angel smiles, placing her black hair behind her ear.

After talking about Roger's and Collins' pros and cons (of course Angel had nothing to say bad about Collins), makeup, fashion, Maureen's erratic yelling and complaining, the unusual whirring noises coming from Mark, and back to Roger's loud annoying snoring, me and Angel had finally ran out of things to talk about.

"Angel, do you have service?" I ask bored. Angel looks at her cell phone, and then sighs. "I wish. I have no service. I'm not even roaming. Where are we?" Angel said looking out the window, seeing nothing but open plains.

"I think we're going the right way, not entirely sure. The GPS is really what I'm depending on, but how reliable can that be?" Called out a driving, tired Joanne.

"Wait, so you think we could be lost?" I asked her.

"It is a possibility. How reliable can this GPS really be? I'd be better if I just knew where this academy was. It says we are about to enter restricted access, so does it mean we're close. Just to make sure, make sure nobody has anything illegal on them." Joanne said, stressing the word illegal.

"I think no one has anything illegal on the Joanne. We knew where we were going. We left all our illegal stuff at home." Angel said cheerfully, glad that 'restricted access' meant that we were somehow closer to where we were supposed to be.

After ten minutes, we stopped. I'm pretty sure we weren't there yet, cause we didn't see any handsome marching military men anywhere.

"Joanne, why'd you stop?" I asked her.

"It's a check point above. Wake up everybody, I think we're here."

Angel shouted in glee and reached in front to wake up a sleeping Mark. I tapped Roger, who woke with a snort. Drool crusted the mouth I was just about to kiss. "Eww. Babe, wipe your mouth."

"Mm." Roger mumbled, and did it, still partially asleep, and confused.

"Where-" Roger started. "Double Eww! Your breath stinks!" I reach in my purse and stuff a piece of double mint gum in his mouth. He looks at me with surprise, but continues chewing…

Joanne's Perspective

I wake up Maureen lightly, knowing how cranky she can be, and how she can lash out at anybody, even if it is her honeybear.

I stop at the checkpoint, and a fatigued dressed military officer came up to my window. I rolled it down.

"License and registration, also any other identification card, and state your business, if you are here for the graduation, then please also retrieve the invitation." A gruff voice greeted me. "We are here for the graduation." I hand him the rental's registration, my license (me being the only who can drive legally other than Collins and Roger, but his license expired a year ago), and my social security card, and the invitation letter Collins sent us. The officer took them and returned them after inspecting them. He returned with three other officers. "Will you please- all of you step out of the van?"

"Guys, get out of the van." I called out to the others, Mimi and Angel inspecting each other of hair or makeup flaws, not knowing that they had to actually get out of the car.

We all got out of the van, the officers a little surprised of the variety that came out of it, including some wide eyed looks when Angel stepped out. Officer#1 started looking inside the car. Of course I knew what they were doing, but apparently Roger didn't. "Hey! Watcha doing?" "Sir, I am checking for any illegal paraphernalia, like drugs, alcohol, guns, weapons, things of the sort. Pay attention to the other officers please." The officer said as he checked and inspected the car.

"Empty your purses and bags here please." Officer#2 said who had a much lighter voice. I emptied out my purse to only show my wallet, a few make up products, and my license. Maureen didn't bring anything, and Roger didn't either, so they stood to the side. He inspected my things and moved me along to let me stand beside Maureen. Angel and Mimi were next and I was surprised how many cosmetics they could fit in their purse and still have room. After a thorough search, they soon joined us. Now Mark was last, and Roger was staring intently.

Mark's messenger bag landed with a thunk on the table and Roger glared. The officer reached into his bag and a nervous Mark looked away as the officer pulled out his camera and a roll of film, and a few different lenses. Roger glared at Mark while he came over, his items fully inspected.

Roger punched him on his arm, and Mark winced but said nothing. Officer#3 came over "No violence, no resistance. Arms wide, spread em." "What the fuck?" Roger said at the officer as he patted us down, with intention to find any hidden weapons.

"Watch it." Angel warned as he patted her and Mimi down. "Sorry Ma'am." He mumbled, obviously not aware of what was really under that skirt. Roger was a little resistant, which caused even more suspicion, and the officer made him take off his shoes, socks and leather jacket, and extensive checking, after all he did look the most suspicious out of all of us. Mark blushed red as he was patted down, embarrassed.

Finally the check was done, and we all filed back into the van and pulled off.

"That took forever." Mimi complained. "But at least its all over. At least that two and a half hour drive was not for nothing." Angel sighed contentedly from the back seat.

"Guys, welcome to West Point, we made it." I said as in the distance, West Point came into view…

**OK. Graduation with a surprise is next! This was my sad attempt at humor. Comment and review please.**


	6. Graduation Back Home

**This is totally Black Raven here with a long ass chapter to make up for the delay. I just wanna say (crying for theatrics) I am so happy for the comments I've gotten from my supporters and friends. Oh geez, my eyeliner is running.**

Disclaimer: I said I was going to use my disclaimers over again, but I can't remember it right now, so here's another one: I do NOT own Rent, or Collins, or Angel, Mimi, Roger, Joanne, or my drama queen. I only own the plot, and my Russian Anita, the player James, and happy-go-lucky Wesley. On with the fic!

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><p>Narrration<p>

The graduation was pleasant, silent, and revered, for some of the bohos, as thousands of graduating soldiers in fatigues, one out of the thousands was Tom Collins, the man who had been sent here under demanding, and unwanted circumstances, and a man who passed and achieved them. Joanne Jefferson was the most respectful of all the bohos during the processions of the graduation, every now and then whispering to Maureen to keep her under control. A Mimi Marquez, a fine woman, tried her best, but could not stop drooling after the thousand handsome military men before her, to whom her boyfriend, Roger Davis, who huffed and mumbled obscenities and was very jealous indeed for not being the center of her attention. Angel Dumott Schunard, persistent to look among the thousands of faces standing, saluting in front of her to find the one face that really mattered to her. And Mark Cohen, constantly filming the entire graduation, from presentation of the Dean, to the Closing Remarks, and was happy, because he was on the opposite side of Maureen, no longer able to feel the penetrating glares of Roger, and because he was able to capture a truly beautiful moment, a moment he probably would have never have seen in his life.

The final ceremonial process ended, and people filed out of their seats, and soldiers roamed to find their loved ones among the masses of civilians and soldiers alike. The bohos exited the seats and came upon the open grassy field, looking among the heads to find the towering stature that belonged to the man named Collins. However, this proved easier said than done…

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><p>Roger's Perspective<p>

"We've been looking for half an hour already, and I know we have had to already walked at least two miles by now." I said exhausted. I sat on the ground, where I once stood, my feet aching from walk around.

"No, we have to find Collins. This is so not the time to lazy Roger. You've walked more than two miles on the streets of New York, this is no different. If I can walk in three inch pump heels, then you can walk in boots." Angel said.

The masses of people were slowly trickling away, most soldiers and civilians had already found their loved ones, but the fact still remained that there were still several hundred soldiers still, and many more civilians to count.

Maureen plopped down next to me. " Well Damnit, I'm tired too. Why don't we wait until Collins comes right here to us?" Maureen complained. " Because he won't see you if you are on the floor with Roger." Joanne said, pulling up her girlfriend from beside me. "Yep Roger, get up. The faster we find Collins, the faster you can rest your feet." Mimi said pulling me up off of the grassy ground.

We move to an opening, where all of us could be comfortable and not cramped together to keep from getting lost and separated.

" Should we go up to that hill? Maybe we could find him better?" Mimi pointed to the right, and we all looked, and we saw a hill with a huge pole waving a huge ass american flag in the air.

"Yeah, we should. That is a better choice, nice thinking Chica." Angel concluded.

"If you just want to find me, then just turn around." Chuckled the deep rumble of the voice of the one we've been looking for...

Collins Perspective

I see Angel turn around with a look a shock, surprise, and relief at the same time. "Hel-" but before I could finish one word, I was already engaged in a heated liplock with Angel. Her soft lips against mine, her mouth tasting of deletable candy. This was a kiss that I had been waiting for ever since I saw her in the stands. I picked her up and swung her around and she cried out in happiness and I laughed, so glad to have her back in my arms. I hug her, savoring the feel of her in my arms. The absence of her that I've felt for six months was no longer there. I saw Mark filming us from the corner of my eye. Usually I would have flipped the camera off or slap it away, but I was to happy to care.

I go in for another kiss, but someone hits my army cap, over my eyes.

"Who the fuck did that?" I say, as I lift my cap so I can see again. I was a litttle angry at whoever would try to ruin my moment with Angel, and block my view of her.

"IS THAT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR DRILL SARGEANT, PRIVATE COLLINS!" Yelled the firecest, and odly looking drill sargeant I have ever known.

"No Sir! Sorry Drill Sargeant Larson Sir!" I say in salute, afraid for what gruelling punishment he could possibly give me. I look to see the pale, tall, lanky, big eared body that belonged to Drill Sargeant Larson.

" At ease soldier. Don't wanna embarrass you in front of your girlfriend. Remember no sexual contact within grounds. That means kissing. Next time I catch you, I'm locking you in the chamber."

I lower my hand from salute and nod in appreciation, as I see D.S Larson walk off.

"So I guess no hi huh?" Roger remarked. I look to Roger, who was looking irritated. "Shut up and give me a hug!" I hug Roger and all the other bohos. "So how yall been?" I ask them. "We've been good, although you look like you were about to shit your pants back there when that dude came over."

"Hell yes, don't let his appearance fool you. He's one of the strictest Drill Sargeants here. Boy I dont wanna mess with him... ever again."

" What did you do Collins?" Joanne asked me.

"Well, I didn't do anything to him, that would be suicide. I told you guys what I did in my letter."

"Collins, you sent us twenty letters at least. Could you clarify?" Joanne said.

"Well, I put magnesium citrate to a couple of my buddies OJ when we went on a 25k run."

"What is that and why did you do it?" Mimi asked.

"Magnesium Citrate is a liquid laxative, and I did it cause they made fun of me cause I was gay and quote 'a gay boy couldn't handle the pressure, and should just go home', but I guess they couldn't handle the pressure cause they were shitin every other half mile!" I said unable to not smile.

"Sup Collins!" Yelled someone behind me. And sure enough it no other than my best buds I was just talking about James Bridgers and Wesley Dorns. Wesley Dorns, the average caucasian, had bright green eyes and close cropped brown hair(due to military standards), who had a pretty girl slung in his arms. James, the tall (but not as tall as me) causasian with deep set brown eyes and the charming, cunning face, strode over here confidently, like he could get every girl in the world...and probably could if he tried, just not mine.

"Sup guys, like yall to meet my friends. This is Maureen, my best friend and partner in crime, always." I point to Maureen, but she was taking more interest in James, uh oh.

"This is Joanne, the best lawyer in the whole wide world, and Maureen's girlfriend." I quickly stress girlfriend, despite Maureen's lusting looks. Joanne gives a quick nod of appreciation.

"This is my friend Roger, my one time song singing guitar strumming emo drama king annoyance. But he's cool once he gets off his period."

"Gee thanks Collins."

I laugh, "you're welcome." "This is Mimi. His girlfriend, so don't try anything James, your reputation preceeds you."

"Well geez Collins, I sure hope it does." James said smirking.

"Shut up James, now this is- the person behind the camera is Mark. This is where you come in James. He's a bit lonely, hasnt had a girlfriend in about two years, maybe you could help?"

" Sure, what's he look like?" Mark lowered his camera to reveal his face.

"Oh, I can help him. Thank God. This wimp might be lost to being single forever."

"Um thank you." Mark said as he raised up his camera once again, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or as an insult. Knowing James it was an insult covered in sugar. I pull Angel to my chest, gladly showing her off in my arms.

"This is Angel, the most important thing in my life. She's the gravity in my world that holds me to the ground."

James steps up towards Angel and kissed her hand. And stays there, kissing HER hand. Now he's just askin for it. My hand magically formed a fist and flew out, hitting him in his face. James howled in pain, while my hand went back to its resting spot, which was Angel's waist. James clutched his face and glared at me. Everyone eyes widened and went silent save for Wesley and Roger who just laughed.

"Sorry, my hands have a mind of its own. Maybe the next time they might find its way around your throat if you touch her again." I said with a smile. James smirked.

" I guess I can't win over everyone, sorry my apologizes Angel. I have a reputation of winning over any lady. So maybe once you get over this loser maybe we could..." James obviously saw my huge hand ball up into a fist, and he stopped mid way in his sentence. Good choice.

"And Collins, work on your punches, they are not as damaging."

"Then that'll leave evidence of your ass whoopin, and then I'll get in trouble, not that I care, but I just don't wanna get locked in the CS chamber and made to say that stupid Soldier's Creed over and over while being choked to death. I just want you to know your place."

"Your weak, too compassionate and you think things through too much. Be reckless for once."

"Being reckless will only get you in trouble."

"Like a bullet through the heart? Ha I laugh in the face of danger!" James scoffs.

"Okay, let's see that when a Taliban infiltrator shoves the muzzle of a M-14 at your face. Anyways, you are irkin me a little shall I put my fist to your face again?" I say as a challenge.

" Dang James, that'll be the third time you got hit in the face." Wesley said while the mysterious girl beside im giggled. "How?" I dared to ask although I probably know the answer. "He was flirting with Melissa. Sorry, let me introduce, this is Melissa, the light in MY world." Wesley said smiling uncontrollably with pride.

"Hey Melissa, nice to meet you." I say.

"Well we've got to go, and I mean I'm gonna get James away before he gets punched again. See you soon." "Yeah, see you soon." I nod.

Damn. He's right. We are gonna see each other soon. How am I gonna tell Angel? Well that can wait can't it? How am I gonna tell her that in two months I'll be gone again, but this time, I'll be gone for four years? I'll think about it later. No time for dispair in a time of happiness. But I dread the time I will have to tell her.

Finally united after six long months, we head towards the end of the field. This little boy with curly russet colored hair and pink tinged cheeks comes up to us crying. I feel sympathtic for the kid so I stoop down to his level and ask him "Whatcha crying about? No need to be sad sport." What surprises me most is that he answers me in Russian.

"I-ya poteryal mamu. I moya sestrenka." Aw jeez, I can't understand half the shit this boy is saying. Anita tried to teach me Russian, but who learns Russian, when the Army forces you to learn Persian? Hmm... mamu sounds like mommy, so maybe he's askin for his mom?

"Uh..." I dig in my genius filled brain to find some scraps of Russian Anita taught me.

"Uh...Kak tebya zovut? I think..." The boy looks at me weird, probably because of my mix of English and Russian but seems to understand me. Hell I barely understood what just rolled off my tongue. I can almost feel the stares of my friends boring into my back as I spoke another language other than Hebrew or Latin, which was really the extent of the groups foreign language besides Mimi's and Angel's Spanish, which they only used if they were talking about someone in the group or if they were extremely angry. "Ivan...Milkovich...you have bad Russian." So this is Anita's boy, figures, yet I'm dumbfounded. This boy knows English and I'm struggling to speak Russian. "You can speak English?" I ask him. "Yes, bad like you do Russian. Do you know mamu?" Ah ha! So I was right! Mamu means mommy...or mom, damnit now I'm not sure. Wait did this boy just insult me? Maybe I should leave him here...no, cause if Anita finds out she'll kick my ass. I know she can, she did in combatives. How a girl almost half my size beat the shit outta me AND give me a split lip I'll never know.**(If you want to know what Collins exactly went through in BT, I suggest watching the series The Making of A Soldier by Benning TV on Youtube :)**

"Yes, I know her. She's a friend of mine." The boy looks at me strangely like...he doesn't know what I'm talking about. What's the word for friend? Druga, yeah that's it. I remember that cause that all my friends do.

"Er, druga. khoroshii, drug mamy. Please tell me you can understand that." Ivan nods his head and hold out his hand. I take his little fingers in my huge hand. Why am I doing this again, oh yeah, cause Anita'll kick my ass if I don't.

"UM CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON? COLLINS IS SPEAKING DIFFERENT LANGUAGES AND IT'S NOT LATIN OR HEBREW!" Roger yelled looking at me.

"Um Roger, quit yelling or you gonna scare the kid. The boy just lost his mom. And just so happens his mom is a friend of mine. We'll just find her, and reunite them. Knowing Anita, she's probably going crazy." I look at the boy as we walk through the crowds. "Do you see her?" I ask him.

"Collins he's like 3'10. He probably can't see anything." Mimi says awwing at the little boy. True.

"You scared of heights?" I ask little Ivan. He doesn't respond. Damn probably doesn't understand.

"Um, scared of heights?" I use my hand to gesture my height. The boy shakes his head no, his little curls bouncing.

"Okay." I lift the boy up and put him on my shoulders. He screams and giggles like a toddler would, and I would have to admit it was indeed too cute.

"Look at Collins being so parental and wussy." Roger mocked.

"Shut the-" I started, but I forgot there was untained, unsoiled little boy on my shoulders. "Hush up Roger, or I'll make sure you can't have children." I say as politely as I can so the boy can't hear the threat behind the words he can't understand.

After walking around for about ten minutes with a forty-five pound boy on my shoulders, I'm finally startin to feel a little uneasy. Where is Anita, and how could she not know that her son was missing?

"Yo, Joanne, if you had a five year old, and found out he was gone, wouldn't you be freaking out?" I ask her, maybe it wasn't just me.

"Yeah- yeah, I would be looking everywhere for him, and already on the intercom proclaiming that he's lost." Joanne said, at first startled by the suddeness of my question.

"Okay, so it isn't just me."I said. "Of course not, I would be worried sick if I had a child and he was lost, being so adorable. Aww, he is soo cute!" Angel cooed, playing with Ivan who was still on my shoulders. And his wiggling wasn't making it any easier KEEPING him on my shoulders, even me holding his little legs, there was still a chance of him falling off. But I wasn't about to ruin Ivan or Angel's fun; Ivan's crying tears had just finnally stopped from falling on my head, I wasn't about to tell them stop and make Ivan start crying again. And after just getting Angel back, I sure as hell wasn't about to make her mad.

Suddenly, Ivan starts banging on my head with his little palms. He's gonna give me a headache. He keeps on banging on my head, my army cap shifting and once again covers my eyes.

"What? What! Quit hitting my head!" I say, trying to uncover my eyes while still trying to keep a hold on Ivan. God knows I don't wanna drop this little boy.

"Mama! YA vizhu, mama !" Ivan says pointing in front of us, still banging on my head. I see why toddlers give you headaches...literally.

I see finally why Ivan was banging my head again. It was Anita, just ahead of me, looking desprately for her missing child.

Another child, a girl clung to her fisting her fatigues in her palm. Another boy, much older, looking around almost the same age of Mimi, also looking. The boy spots us first, and notifies Anita before I can call out to her.

"Oh my little Ivan! Don't you ever run away from Mommy! Oh God, thank you Collins, someone could have taken my baby!" Anita says grabbing Ivan off of my shoulders gratefully. I watch as I see Anita cry, holding Ivan in her arms.

The older boy comes up to me and extends his hand in gratitude. Out of respect I shake his.

"Thank you uh," he glances down at my nametag on my fatigue."Collins, for finding Ivan. We could have lost him forever if it wasn't for you."

"It's cool man, although I was havin a hell of a time understandin him. Good thing for Anita trying, no forcing me to learn Russian, or I wouldn't have been able to understand him."

" Ha, yeah, Anita tends to do that. I'm Viktor."

" Yeah! She told me a lot about you. You're her son right?" I say.

"Where did you get that conclusion? I'm her brother." Viktor says with an eyebrow raised.

"What? Whoa, um, she referencedx you when we were talking as my little Viktor, while talking about her kids I'd figure-"

"Oh, well now that you've said that, I'm her little brother, she's been takin care of me since I was 10 ever since the parents died. She always reference me as Little Viktor, cares more for me as a son rather than a brother."

"Wait a sec, how old is she? She doesn't look that old. I'd say she was 22, like me." I say, this time, with my eyebrow raised looking at her. Geez really, I'd thought she wasn't old.

"Try adding another decade."

"Wow, 32, huh? And damn all this time she had the spunk of a 19 year old. Boy was I wrong."

"That's her alright."

"But she looks so young." I say amazed, looking at Anita who waas cooing her twind in her arms, before turning back to Viktor.

"That's what a little of exercise will do ya. Hey I got a favor to ask ya, can you do it?"

"Depends on what it is."

"Take care of her, over there, wherever yall are going to, cause she won't tell me." Viktor says, his smile replaced by a frown.

"She's in my platoon, so I'll take care of her." I say.

" No, man you don't get it. Take care of her over there. Just make sure she comes home. Anita's a risk-taker. She'll do anything if she believes it's right. Just make sure she comes home. Where are you guys going?"

"Um, I will. Anita's one of my closest friends, but it really isn't my call to tell you where we are being deployed to. It's somethin Anita should tell you."

"But I deserve to know, cause I'm gonna be the one staying at home with these rascals while she's off doing her duty. Just tell me."

"I'm sorry, but I just can't, it's not my choice to. But I'll talk to Anita, for you."

He nods sadly, and I walk over to Anita who still has her children in her hands.

"Oh thank you Collinz! I-"

"Yeah, I know. Hey do somethin for me. Promise?"

"I would pinky promize but I have my handz full. But I promize." She says.

"Tell Viktor the truth. He deserves to know."

"But-"

"I know you're trying to protect him, but it's not worth it. He's hurting inside. He deserves to know Anita."

"No, I can't." She says.

I'd hate to do this but...guilt trip.

"Think about it. A year from now,two, even three years from now. Little Ivan and Ivana will be what? Six, seven, eight? And when we're off overseas in Iraq, Afghanistan,Bagdad, Kabul, or Pakistan, fighting for this country that my friends, and YOUR kids live in, when your kids ask Viktor, who I might remind you is takin care of your kids, while you fight for their FUTURE and FREEDOM, when they ask Viktor 'where is Mommy?' Do you really want his answer to be 'I don't know'? Just think about it Anita. The boy deserves to know." I tell her seriously.

"Are you telling your loved onez? That when you go overseaz, that you might not come back? To tell them that when they zee you go on that military jet for deport, that they might not zee you again? How am I zupposed to tell Viktor that, huh Collinz? Are you gonna tell them?"

"Yes, I am Anita, it's not right to withold the truth. It's not right to let them wonder where exactly you are. I'm sure they know the risks to our job, but what they don't know will hurt them. All I'm askin is that you tell him Anita."

"Yeah, okay, Collinz. I'll tell him. After all I did make a promize." Anita smiles, and I smile back, happy to have change her mind, for Viktor's sake.

"See you later Collinz."

"Yep, see you."

* * *

><p>"Oh my fuckin God, it's good to be back in the East Village." I sigh in contentment. I smiled as the loft came into view.<p>

"Thing's been same ol same ol here."

"I'm just ready to go home, talk off these fucking fatigues and spend some QT with my girl."

"I think we all know what that means." Mark joked, elbowing me in my side.

"Haha, Mark you sly dog, Not. So catch me up. How's it been down here?"

"Well that homeless lady beat the shit out of Mark about a month ago for filming her." Mimi says hiding a smile.

"Roger is still on his period." Mark said thundering up the stairs ahead to open the door.

"VERY FUNNY MARK. Mimi's givin up her vices." Roger says proudly. Yay, a heroin-free Mimi.

"That's how ya do it, knew you had it in you." I say, givin her a one arm hug.

"Pookie moved up in her firm." Maureen says happily kissing Joanne affectionately on the cheek.

"Good for you."

"Ooh, and I'm still makin protests, this time against unfair rent prices Benny's been givin us."

"Angel's been pissed at you, every time you sent a letter sayin you got in trouble, so I wouldn't expect all the qt you were expecting to get." Joanne says.

"Haha, oh, you're serious? No QT? This sucks." I say.

"Don't worry babe, you'll get your QT." Angel says winking at me.

YES. We all walk inside the loft, and it's the same. The torn couch still by the window sill, Captain Crunch strewn across the metal bottles litter every available surface. Ah, home.

"I haven't had alcohol in forever!" I say instantly going to the half empty bottle of Jack.

"Collins, it's only been six months." Joanne clarified as I took a throat burning swig.

"Like I said, forever."

"So, what did you do over there? I heard BT only took 10 weeks. What else were you doing?" Joanne says.

"Well I had to take foreign language classes, and AIT."

"What's AIT?"

"Advanced Individualized Training. It's more like of a specialty."

"What did you choose?"

"Well, I was already good at tinkering with electronics, so I choose Signals Intelligence and Electronic Warfare, which is basically interfering electronic messages and coding and stuff like that." I say, knowing where this conversation was leading.

"Oh."

"Yep."

"So when are you leaving?" Joanne said, an all I did was look at her. That was all I could do. I did say I was gonna tell them but damn? Really, so soon? Sure, I did say a whole lot of shit to Anita, just so I can get her to tell her brother, but now am I getting why it was so hard for her to tell him. It's a lot harder than it looks. Telling your friends and lover that after two months is all that they'll get with you, before they see you again for four more fuckin years is a lot to swallow. Jack Daniels ain't got nothing on this.

"Well, since you asked, I'll tell you. In two months, December 26, it's the next deport date. So yeah." I take two more swigs of Jack, the alcohol now swimming in my head. There goes my happy mood, as I see Angel tearing up, and Mark with a deep scowl on his face. They shouldn't have asked.

"Well, ironic as this may seem, I think I might need a moment." I leave the room outside on the fire escape. I just cannot win. Can't make people happy. I'm back and it's supposed to make people happy instead of making them sad. It isn't fair to me and it's not right by them either. I watch as below roaming people wander the streets, ranging to bohemians, to the more frequent hookers that frequented the streets of Avenue A and B.

* * *

><p>(total Bromance RogerCollins\Mark moment, based on song If I don't make it back by Tracy Lawrence)

I sigh and twirl the neck of the bottle in my fingers as I hear two people come out onto the fire ecsape. I ignore them and take another swig of alcohol before I turn to whoever it was. It was Roger and Mark, I should have known. Mark sat himself on the stairs that connected the fire escape to Mimi's apartment. Roger leaned against the window, obscuring any view of the girls inside.

"Guys I appreciate it and all but-"

"Yeah Collins we understand. Ya know Joanne didn't mean to-" Mark said avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, I know. I was just planning to-"

"Tell us later." Roger finished my sentence.

"Yeah. It's not the easiest thing to do ya know. I didn't mean to be-"

"A prick? An asshole?" Roger guessed.

"No, I was gonna say mean, but I guess that's a more suitable word."

We chuckled a bit, Roger taking the quarter-full bottle of Jack from my hands and take a swig of it himself.

"Ya know I was drinking from that." I comment.

"So what its ours."

"True."

"Ya know, Collins we love ya a lot man. Bromance to the max." Roger says.

"Yeah like you were always there for us, time for us to be there for you." Mark said, his cerulean eyes wavering with emotion.

"Yeah, when we were freezing our asses off, you stole money from the ATM to pay our rent. And you were there when I was kickin my own vices, you were always there, no matter how angry or violent I got, you were always there." Roger says softly.

"Yeah even when I was dumped you laughed, but you were there when I was crying over Maureen and- and just know that we're here for you always. And the one time I actually thought of givin up on being a filmaker, you were there to give me that pep talk to continue."

"Wait, you actually CRIED over Maureen?" Roger chuckled.

"Shut up, that's why I can't tell you shit." Mark says taking the bottle and downing the rest, wincing as he felt the utter burn only Jack could deliver. Mean while I was fighting to keep tears in, not knowing whether it was the alcohol makin be slightly buzzed that made my emotion out of whack, or i it was the words of sincerity coming from their mouths.

"Guys if I don't make it back, ya know-"

"Collins what the-"

"what do ya mean"

"I think you know man. If I don't make it back, don't waste no tears on me. Cause I know yall are some major crybabies." I say sniffling. Damn, who am I to talk?

"Collins, man, that ain't gonna happen man, quit thinkin like that." Roger said softly, almost at an inaudible whisper, sniffling.

"Yeah we know you. You're gonna pull through with out a scratch." Mark said at attempted words of comfort. Yet his eyes betrayed him, his blue eyes shimmering with held back tears.

"I'm just sayin', it's a possibility that I be coming back. I hate to say it but the thought just scares me man. I just don't wanna...die out there."

I'm startled as I feel two warm bodies envelope me. I can't help but cry as I hug my friends, their soundless comfort, save for Roger's sniffling, their rough hands thumping me on my back proving more comfort than words could ever explain.

Who knew a half bottle of Jack could make three grown men cry?

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, that was it! The End? Collins doesn't go to war and we have a lovey dovey bromance moment ending right?<strong>

WRONG!

**Review please, and you will see Collins pop a cap in some Taliban ass next chapter. I promise. I luvs you, and if you love me and Collins you'll review. If you don't I'll kill Collins next chapter, no I won't, cause I've got something so much more worse planned. For the Taliban infidels of course.**

Review! ToTaL RandOmNeSs!


	7. Firefight

Okay for those who haven't read the last chapters, (which I don't see why if you're on chapter 7 now) or if you haven't got a fucking clue what's going on, here's a recap:

**Setting**: **2003**, **East Village, New York** OR deserts of **Kabul, Afghanistan**. The bohos have no AIDS, and Angel is alive, April is dead, Roger is his normal emo self, Mimi is still a stri- *_ahem_* dancer. So normal except the time frame and place, and health condition. Oh and the bohos have a PS2, which is totally irrelevant.

On a perfect sunny Friday morning, Collins wakes up alone in bed ( which never happens), and goes to the living room to see Angel crying. He asks her what happens, and turns out, he has received a letter from the government (fucking government) that he has been drafted into the US Army (OH NOES!).

Angel and Collins go to tell the bohos, and they support Collins (kinda) to go and get out. He goes to the recruitment center, only to find out that he's in for good ( blame Joanne's awesome lawyer skills), so they have a party fest to celebrate Collins going away and Collins in general. Collins leave to go to BCT (Basic Combat Training) at Westpoint for 6 months. (fast forward).

The bohos a whole chapter on their experience) goes to Collins graduation ( yes he graduated), and met Collins' friends from BCT.

They are back home, and Collins get slightly drunk, ok buzzed, and gets a little pissed at Joanne and the bohos, about mentioning his departure so soon after he just got home, not wanting to think about it, he goes out onto the fire escape, and soon Mark and Roger come out in an effort to soothe him. They have a bromance moment.

AND NOW YOU ARE CAUGHT UP! (*whew* I SUCK at summaries)

* * *

><p>"Yo Private Collins, snap out of it." My Commanding Officer yells, snapping me out of my somewhat lucid trance. He tosses me a ten pound M-16 assault rifle and goes to the next soldier, handing out rifles and handguns. We must be close.<p>

I catch the rifle easily, the muzzle facing towards the roof of the helicopter. I check the components of the rifle, checking for any faults.

I stock up on magazine clips, the rigidness of the clip itself making it easier to grip in my gloved hands.

"Chill out Collins, you've been silent this entire flight. Homesick already?" Private Wesley Dorns said, slapping me on my bullet proof back.

"Ha, I've only been silent since I've gotten on this damn CH-47 Chinook. I'm just now realizing how grateful I am to be in the Army and not in the Airforce." I say, my stomach flipping at the high altitude we were flying at. The occasional bumps from the turbulence in the air didn't help either.

"Aww, finally scared of something? Heights? Then how'd you cope when we were on the Eagle Tower back at BT?" He says checking his M9 pistol.

"Don't shoot that, you know you have a happy trigger finger. The 40 foot repel drop on the ET was nothing, mainly because I knew I would be touching land soon. This is different, we're thousands of feet up over the ocean, or wherever the hell we're at now, I hate this thing has no windows, anyways and that cargo door could fly open at any minute. And that's a long fall down."

I take a look at Wesley and his image reflects mine. The digital camouflage fatigues, desert sand 500 to match the terrain we were about to encounter. Our deep grooved gloves, the digital desert sand SPCS and MBAV ballistic vest, making nearly seeing an inch of skin impossible, save for your face.

"Ha, well, since I got you talking, how was your time home?" Wesley says as he grabs the nice and powerful M110 Sniper Rifle, checking it, before snagging some ammo.

"Wow, gotta admit that's nice fire power, I'm guessing for AIT you took Sniping? Anyways, my time was nice, save for the beginning, a little sore spot, but I was able to at least spend some major QT with my girl, celebrate our anniversary, and spend Christmas with the bohos, which really isn't a traditional Christmas, but it still counts."

"You're married?"

"Nah, but damn I wish, celebrating he day we met. December 24th. How was yours?" I ask.

"It was good, of course QT with Melissa, Christmas with her parents, who came to us, since you know I had to leave in the morning. Um, the mall. Let her shop. Couple bottles of beer at a pub with some battle-buddies that lived nearby. Um, that's it really, but it was still nice." Wesley says checking the barrel of the sniper rifle, fitting it with a silencer, it's sandy exterior rigid with grooves./pp"Where do you live?"

"Midtown. You?"

"Alphabet City."

"Aah, sounds nice." I look at him like he was crazy, he must not know what the Alphabet City was, or he wouldn't be saying that.

"What?"

"Nothing, I don't know how you can fire that thing, it has too much recoil."

"It's easy for me, I can hit a target dead on from 500 meters away with this thing, of course with a Reflex Scope. On the other hand, I wouldn't dare mess with that Signal and Electronic Warfare course. How'd the hell do you do it?"

"Well I just have experience with electronics, my past was filled with things like that?"

"Electrician?"

"More like rewiring an ATM, or hacking corporate building systems, planting untraceable viruses, stealing files, and breaking down firewalls and spam blocks. Sometimes for fun, sometimes for money. Got big bucks for stealing files."

"Badass, and majorly illegal."

"Well, that's part of the fun right?" I chuckle. "Where's Anita?"

"On the other Chinook, dude, I heard she took the course for Explosives and Ammunition."

"She is being deployed in Afghanistan right? I heard the other half of our platoon was shipped off to Iraq."

"Nope she's with us."

"Cool, although Anita and grenades are a very dangerous pair." I chuckle, and I glance in front of us to see Private James Bridgers, snoozing. Damn, he's been sleeping ever since we got on his damn helicopter.

I get up from my bench to knock hard on James' ACH helmet, waking him up.

"Damnit Collins, I told you to not wake me up unless we were there!" He snapped still half asleep.

"Dumbass, wake up, strap up, we ARE almost there." I snicker at his disgruntled face as he sits upright. James gets up and rubs his eyes, and straps up with the same weapon as mine, and finally starts talking.

"Where are we?"

"Well we were over the Atlantic, but that was over three or four hours ago. I hate how this damn thing doesn't have windows, except in the cockpit."

"You guys been up for the whole time?"

"Yep thirteen fucking hours, I have, but Wesley went to sleep for about five hours. I tried to, but my stomach feels like doing somersaults, but I'll be better once we hit land."

I put on my 45 pound day pack on my shoulders, its height the length of my own torso. I feel the Chinook descend and finally touch the beloved ground with a jostle.

"ALRIGHT TROOPS! Welcome to Kabul, Afghanistan! This is your new home, welcome to Base. Now get out of my copter. A fellow CO will instruct from there."

The loading dock opened, and sand billowed up due to the rotors on the helicopter still rotating.

Instantly, multiple noises and sounds fill your eardrum filling your brain to the limits of its capacity. The distant, and familiar sounds of bullets being released from their clips in a deadly firefight, the light pops of frag grenades being detonated into enemy territory, the thrum of the wings of the helicopter taking off once more, just as another Chinook lands delivering the other supposed half of the soldiers being deployed to Kabul, and the chatter or chants and greeting of seasoned, battle-stricken soldiers talking about our arrival.

Our infantry shuffles out, my boots kicking up the dirt, my assault rifle in hand at my side. No matter how many times I've been through the training grounds, or the Urban course, I will never get used to the feel of a gun in my hands. I hope.

Soon, the other soldiers occupying the other cargo Chinook came out, including Anita, who looked rather pissed, despite her cheery outlook on things. Her being angry is something rarely seen. She takes her stand next to me, mumbling a quick 'I'll tell you later' before standing at attention, which I quickly mimic, my hand raised in salute.

"Alright newbies, you just got deployed in one of the hottest Taliban insurgent attacked bases, currently. You hear that? That's MY men out there fighting our borders, right now. Some of you will have the taste of a real fire fight today, or tonight, some won't, lucky you."

I swallow hard, thinking of how it must be out there, and hoping to whatever God out there that I don't go today. Yet my composure on the outside is uniformed, mocked straight face at staring eyes as how we were taught to stand at attention. No emotion, no fear. Just discipline. But inside my heart was racing.

I look at the CO, which I have yet to learn his name, his tag too small for me to see from the area I was. His short cropped dirty blonde hair framed his temples, his sharp jaw line decorated by a jagged, puckered burn scar. His eyes stared with concentration, shimmering with experience in the war. His lean, muscled stature rigid with authority, which leaked from every pore in his body. He was indeed a true veteran.

"Alright my name is Sergeant Major Williams, and that is what you will address me by. Not Sarge, not Willy, Will, or any other god-forsaken names you guys, and girls make up," he said, finding a few of the women in our infantry, including the forever short Anita. "It's Sergeant Major Williams, got it?"

"SIR YES SIR SERGEANT MAJOR WILLIAMS!" The collected infantry yelled in complete synchronization.

"Alright, now I'd just LOVE to give you a tour of the base, but you're big boys and girls right? I would, but my men are out there in a firefight right now. SO, the barracks (sleeping quarters) are to your left 500 meters. DFAC(Dining facilities) to the right of it. TOC(Tactical Operations Center) straight ahead, 300 meters. FOB (Forward Operating Bases) and AAR (After- Action Review) to your left along with the Infirmary, don't get shot, hurts like hell, and it leaves a nasty little scar. Just a word of advice.

MWR (Morale Welfare Recreation) south of you 50 meters. I suggest getting to the barracks, and make it in time to eat at DFAC. Empty barracks are along the left, the last few rows down. I suggest not taking someone's bunk, boys tend to get antsy and want to rest after being in a firefight for four hours straight. Now go away. God knows I hate having to explain this to every new shipment of recruits, like tomorrow and the next day, and the next, if I live that long…" SGM Williams says mumbling the last part, walking off.

He leaves us 100 soldiers with a vague idea of the base, which isn't very comforting, since the gunfire still sounds very close. I do not care what Roger says, this is so not like Call of Duty, the bastard.

"Now that we have time to talk, I'm juzt letting you know that I'm mad at you." Anita pouts, holding her gun with such a familiarity (though in the correct manner) as of it was her childhood teddy bear.

"Why? And Ow by the way." I chuckle as she punches me lightly on my arm as we (Anita, Wesley, James, and I, though Wesley and James were having their own conversation) pass the several rows of metal domed barracks that supposedly held twenty bunks each. And there were hundreds of barracks.

"Cauze you left me on dat helicopter with stupid idiotz, to talk with. I had to ztand by de prick in our platoon."

"I'm sorry but I thought James was that certain prick we always talk about."

"HEY! I CAN STILL HEAR YOU DUMBASS! I'M NOT A PRICK, I'M JUST A LADIES MAN!" James yells from ahead of us.

"Stay in your own damn conversation!" I yell back.

"Some friend you are!" James mocked hurt.

"Yeah yeah, you were saying Anita?" I say directing my attention back to Anita who patiently waited for my and James bickering to stop.

"I waz saying, I mean II Private Dickhead, ya know, de one you absolutely hate?"

"I dislike a lot of people Anita, but I don't think I hate anyone in our platoon, afterall, I still have to work beside them."

I say sweating a little, as the sweltering heat waves rise out of the ground, and the sun's rays beating down above you from above. It beats upon us unforgivingly, despite the cool breeze. I check my watch for the degrees outside. Yes it does that, also tells you your current coordinates, the time (military), and gravitational direction (North, South, East, and West). Wow, only 85, but the direct rays of heat, no clouds to protect you makes it feel like 100. This thing is fucking broken. Still too damn hot to be only 85, even though there's a viable reason.

"No, do you remember ze baztard II Private Derrick Zmitch?"

Now I remember him. He was one those homophobic bastards that I met on the first day of BT on the bus. But despite my best effort to like him, and try to be friends with him, it's impossible to be the way he is now. Damnit.

"He's here? Damn, I put up with his shit at BT. I don't wanna have to cover his homophobic ass on the battlefield either." I say irritated at the very thought of him.

"Ready to shit sandwiches? Sorry you already do that. Someone a little upset that I'm here? Sup Munchkin." She says looking at Anita, who answered with a growl.

"Down down puppy dog. Maybe you should just go back home." Zmitch sneered at me as he bumped Anita aside, dividing us, with his body between us.

"Get the fuck away, I'm so not dealing with you today, tomorrow, or never for that matter." I sneer back, moving away from his side, back to Anita's.

"Aww, what ever happened to battle-buddies?" He toyed with me, inserting his body between Anita and me again. I fucking HATE this dude.

"WE were never battle-buddies. My battle-buddies are Milkovich, Dorns, and Bridgers, and sometimes Rikers, do you hear your name in any of that?" I move from him again and move back to Anita's side, one to be with her, two, so I won't punch the shit out of this dude.

I look at Anita's short stature and see her delivering a death glare a hell of a lot more effective than mine.

"Aww, it's sad you have to get your munchkin to steer me away, but I feel bad for Dorns and Bridgers, cause they have to sleep in the same barrack as your queer ass. Chow." Zmitch says leaving to go into one of the other barracks on the opposite side James and Wesley entered. Gladly no where near mine.

"I just wanna wring out his neck and squeeze him til his head pops off." I growl.

"Don't get upzet Collinz, he did that to bother you." Anita says colsoling me.

"How can I not? How can you not? He dissed me, but not only me, but you too and everyone else associated with me!"I stop outside my barrack, yet not going in, still wanting to continue my conversation. I set my day pack down, with a heavy thunk, and lean against the hot corrugated metal of the barrack.

"I'm zhort, but he needz to be reminded that diz little woman beat up hiz azz in Combativez, Urban Courze, and Night Zpec Course." she says smiling.

"Hell, in Comabtives, you threw him over your shoulder, and tapped him out so fast, I don't believe it was a match, just a ass whoopin."

"You're one to talk about getting tapped out." she says smiling mischievously, setting the stock of her gun on the dusty ground.

"Hey well you punched me, pretty hard, first of all. Then you put me in a fucking grapple, you clinging on my back like some fucking monkey, you kicked the back of my knees, made me fall, then put me in a headlock til I almost passed out. I wouldn't say you won, but you had the advantage." I say smiling, not wanting to admit utter defeat.

"How?"

"By being so damn short."

We both laugh, knowing full well my remark about her height was strictly friendly, and not in a degrading manner that Zmitch had said earlier.

"Alright, I'm gonna go inside now, and rest up. I'll see you at DFAC. I'm still a little hung up on jet lag, and kinda screwed over by the major time change." I say.

"Okay Collinz. I'll zee you zoon at DFAC in 90." Anita smiles and walks on, mingling with the other walking soldiers.

I grab my day pack and gun as I slide the door open to the barrack, and cooling air rushes to meet me.

"So Anita, Wesley, James, you scared about tonight?" I say as we all leave DFAC.

"Scared? Hell no, I'm excited, can't wait for that adrenaline rush you get on the battlefield." We says walking, and I notice the drastic change in temperature, based on earlier this afternoon. So blazing heat stroke inducing hot all day, and finger- numbing cold in the night.

"I couldn't care lez, but I'd hear dat dey were picking squadz tonight, actually were headed there now."

"Well, I guess we'll find out what squad we're gonna be in. Hopefully together." I chuckle, stuffing my hands in my pocket.

* * *

><p>God Damnit. This can't be happening. It just can't. I just found out two horrible things in the matter of twenty minutes. One: I find out that not only Dorns,Milkovich,Rikers, and Bridgers is in my squad, along with three unknown soldiers are in my squad, but Zmitch too. Two: I find out my worst dream has came to realization. We were going into the firefight tonight. Just my luck. My fuckin' luck.<p>

* * *

><p>The two humvees drove across the sandy cold, dark rugged land, and as the sounds of the tiring platoon we were supposed to replace grew louder and stonger, my heart began to beat faster, with anxiety. Everyone was talking about how exhilarating the fight was gonna be, and how they couldn't wait to 'pop a 556 in some Taliban ass', my mind was racing with the real probability, and reality of things. Whose to say we won't live past today? Whose to say all of us won't die out there today? Whose to say, that we won't get to hear our loved ones voices again. Anita and Vicktor and her little babies, Wesley and his girlfriend, me and Angel. Who is definite about the future? But I know my out come. I'm gonna make it, survive, and on the break of light, I'm gonna call my girl and tell her not to worry. My first phonecall home, that's what'll keep me going tonight.<p>

"OUT NOW, DOWN LOW, NIGHT GEAR ON, AND WEAPONS TIGHT!" Someone in the platoon screamed over the booming and blaring of the stale mate ahead of us. I flipped the night vision goggles on as we ran to the small sand bag fort just in front of us.

We rush out, weapons tight, and I see we were overpowered already, before the fight began. Taliban forces on the other side, so far, but yet so close to where one break in our defense and they would have the upper hand. There was easily 10 to one, and growing. And would continue to grow, if some were killed now.

As my logic sinks back to the very end of my stream of conscious thoughts, and my military training shifts to the front, overriding every sense. When you become in a life or death scenario, such as this, it seems as all logic is replaced by three things: the will to survive, the involuntary adrenaline rush that flows through your blood, supplying every tendon, every muscles with reflexes and a reaction time above your greatest level, and the training, discipline and instruction given to you by your CO.

Even in the back of my mind, as I set my barrel over the barrier, set my laser on a Taliban individual's chest, and pull the trigger, the powerful recoil of the gun jolts my arms slightly, and as I see the unidentifiable man only known as my enemy, spew blood from his chest and fall to the ground, the little part of me inside still screams to stop, to stop doing the very thing I once stood against, I am only able to ignore with a saddened conscience. I know that if I want me and my comrades to survive, I must. If I want to ever hear Angel's voice again I must.

I pull the trigger again, targeting new enemies, and one by one, they fall. I watch slightly disheartened, because even though they fight for wrong cause, I knew I had slain someone's brother, son, or husband. And now the blood of the dead, no matter how wrong, now taints my once once innocent being with the thing I had always hated most: murder.

I slip under cover as I replenish my gun's magazine with a new one, I hear someone scream in pain for the first time. I look to my left and see a man clutching his arm, blood seeping fast into his uniform. James rushes out, and takes off the man's jacket, and I see a grisly sight, that if I had seen before my military training, and at home, I would have probably retched. But the army prepares people for it, for they almost desensitize you from the very thought of it, but this was entirely different.

In that second that I saw it, his shoulder, bloody and ragged, was missing a huge portion of flesh,his bone, sickeningly white, was crushed and splintered, embedding itself into the already incomplete muscle as James screamed 'MAN DOWN' as he desperately tried to splint the shoulder and stop the bleeding, his face full of a seriousness I'd never seen before. I swallowed hard, as sweat beaded my face, I learned that this was Actual Reality. That is what it was out here. This was the reality, and some of them had impact with it at full force...


	8. Discomfort

It's funny how you don't notice how the time flies. When the deafening sounds of the M-240B Machine Gun suppressing enemies with lethal force, the bang of a grenade or flash going off so close to your ears, the cries of men in pain, and the still streaming adrenaline rushes into your veins, you don't realize how long you've been fighting, how many clips you've exhausted, and the smoking gun in your hands that keeps the slaughter going. You don't realize how time flies, until the barren sun touches your back. I hadn't realized, I had been fighting for over 5 hours nonstop.

And indeed reality had came and had gone, for in the twenty in the platoon I fought in, three wouldn't make it back to base. The man from the night, was one of those who did not make it, he had simply lost too much blood to be helped. It was only then, when the Taliban forces retreated under our heavy fire only momentarily, did I breathe out a sigh of relief. It was over and we had victory. But the blood of 20 plus men still stained my hands and gun. No matter what just cause I fought for, in God eyes, in my eyes, I was still a murderer. But the fight was over, and the one thing I could think of was, as I boarded back onto the Humvee, was Angel's sweet voice reassuring my shaken up soul. I still saw that my battle buddies, were unharmed and okay, except for James who was covered in the blood of injured soldiers, his fatigues stained a dried burgandy red mixed with pale desert sand.

The ride back home to base was quiet, except for a few sounds of of chatter, from those who still had energy to talk. James was silent, the bloody dogtags of fallen soldiers clutched in his hand. They were bloodstained, the blood dried and cracked upon the metal plate.

I looked at James. "Are you okay Bridgers?" We both knew that the first name basis was for free time not when you were doing your job.

James chuckled. "No. I had let a man die, I couldn't stop the bleeding. A bullet, high powered, had to have been from a machine gun, had penetrated through I Private Sully's artery, and had splintered his humerous, his bone was so broken, it would have to have been amputated if he had lived. The main **part** of his bicep and his tendon was missing, so even if we could have repaired the bone, he wouldn't have been able to use his arm anyways. He had lost to much blood, even if I had the equipment, I probably couldn't have saved him. My job is to be a medic, and I couldn't save a comrade from dying."

"It's okay Bridgers, you did your best."

"But my best isn't good enough." James sighed, clutching the dogtags harder.

I stared at them for a moment then I looked away from them, sad and angry at the same time. How could this happen? So soon too? It wasn't fair. At all, for those men to have died so early in age, whether they were 18 years old or 40. They deserved to have lived a full life, not die staring at the enemy. And for James to carry the burden of reporting AAR being debriefed over and over about how the men died, not to mentikon the regular report that everybody had to go through, including me.

I look at my watch, and see it's dusted over in fine sand. I brush it off, and see the time, 0830. I sigh, knowing I wouldn't be calling Angel as soon as I got to base. It was eleven in the night YESTERDAY. She would just be going to bed. I wouldn't wake her. I would wait.

* * *

><p>Angel tossed in her bed. It was so cold. So lonely. The absence of a certain warmth made her shiver and she bundled the covers closer to her in order to mimic that certain relaxing warmth, to no avail. The bed almost seemed too big for her. She could almost feel Collins warm, bare, flawless chest, against her small back, his heat penetrating her skin, warming her body, her heart. But in the same instant, she felt the ever present cold, just a reminder that she was alone in the bed, and the reality that she would be alone in that very same bed for a long time. It was just so hard to go to sleep without him there.<p>

Collins last words still replayed over and over in her mind, giving her restless mind some what a blanket of comfort.

'Angel, I love you, and you can guarantee you'll see me again, and soon. I'll call you whenever I can, if not, send letters. It'll be like I'm still there. I will be there, in your heart. You'll see me again, in a little while I promise. And you know that I don't break my promises. Trust me, when I'm over there, all I will be thinking about is you. And it's you that will keep me going over there. I love you. I'll see you soon.' Angel could almost feel his soft full lips against hers, the beard tickling her chin as she kissed him back, like it always did. She could almost feel his embrace, his goodbye hug covered by an army uniform.

Hot salty tears flowed down her face and into her cropped curly hair, as she looked up at the cracked ceiling to which she smiled sadly at the times she and Collins had made shapes out of the spreading cracks, to how he always pointed to the one that was shaped like an odd looking genital, which lead to his always present horniness, and eventual lovemaking. Angel turned to her side and covered her eyes with the sheets, and cried herself into a restless sleep...

* * *

><p>AN: sorry, but that was indeed a filler. Sorry. Review...please.


	9. Phone Call

Finally, I have been waiting for this moment all day. Literally. I had, in fact been debriefed twice, once by my CO, and another by an operative in AAR. That in itself was tiring, not to mention lack of sleep, jet lag, and the annoying drastic change in time. I had slept, and ate in DFAC twice and had already received another mission, which was thankfully patrol and now I was just waiting for morning to come in NYC. It was now, let's see... five in the afternoon. Which meant it would be nine thirty in the morning. Finally. I walked over to MWR...

* * *

><p>The phone rang for the fifth time in the last 2 hours. Mark stop fucking calling! I looked over at Angel, who was a little silent. God knows I didn't like my chica looking like this. She looked so sad, but who could blame her? I'd probably would have been the same way if Roger had left. I'm also kinda glad Angel called me over, even when she did call me it was 3 in the morning. I was alright cause my girl needed the comfort. I got up from the bright blue couch and picked up the house phone.<p>

I sighed a bit, before putting it to my mouth. "Hello? Angel's residence, The fabulous Mimi speaking."

"Hey Meems. Is Angel okay?"

"Mark, she's fine, I'm with her, she is fine. Stop calling."

"I just don't want Angel to feel alone. Maybe I should come over?"

"Mark, we don't need the entire gang over here. Angel's gonna be okay, she just need a bit of space."

Mark sighed a bit before replying "Alright. I'll check up later." And the phone went dead.

I swear sometimes Mark just becomes too worried about every one.

As I make my way back to the blue couch to continue watching sad soap operas with Angel, phone rings again.

Damnit Mark! 'Later' does not mean two seconds later!

I snatch the phone from the receiver. "What Mark!"

But instead of Mark's slightly nasally voice replying, I get a deep throaty, chest rumbling response.

"Chill Meems, I'm totally not the pumpkinhead."

I couldn't reply, I was so shocked. Was this who I think it was?

"Uh...Meems, you still there?"

I manage to say a response.

"Oh uh yeah." I say still shocked although happy, as a smiles starts to show on my face.

" Hey, hand the phone to Ang, and don't say my name. I want it to be a surprise."

I take the phone away from my mouth and call to Angel softly.

"Hey, chica, phonecall for you."

Angel got off the couch and walked over. "Is it Mark?" Angel sounded so tired and depressed.

"Uh yes. He just wants to talk to you." He said he's not gonna stop calling until he hears that you're okay." I lied as I handed Angel the phone.

* * *

><p>I saw so drained, so tired. I didn't really got much sleep last night. I didn't want to talk to anybody, except Mimi right now, and now Mark?<p>

I take the phone from Mimi and say

"Hello?"

"Hello Angelcake."

My heart stopped, a mix of emotions. The phone slipped from my trembling hands. Tears of utter shock and surprise brim over my my God! It was Collins. My Collins! I grab the phone from the floor as I once had in my hands.

"Collins? "

"The one and only. I've missed you so much,Ang. I've been waiting forever to hear your voice."

"Oh my God, I'm just so glad your'e okay. You scared me, I could barely get any sleep. I'm just so glad you're okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine don't worry, I told you I would call. I keep my promises. I love you so much, and hearing you're voice made my crappy day so much better."

I smiled, loving how even though he is still on the other side of the world he can still make me make out seem as if he still here.

"I'm just so glad you're safe. What's it like over there?"

"Well its hotter than fucking hell in the daytime, but the north pole at night. Come on, can I get done consistency around here?" Collins joked...

We talked for what seems so short before Collins said he had to go.

"Wait, you have to go? Why? We just started talking!"

I heard him chuckle," Angel, we started talking five hours ago."

Really, had it been that long? "Why do you have to go?"

" I have to report for duty in 20 for my mission."

"What? Is this your first?"

"No last night was. I'd rather not talk about it. But I will if you want to know."

"No, no it's fine, you don't have to talk about it." I say calmly, but I was worried if it was really so bad that to where he didn't want to talk about it.

"What mission are you on now?"

"Um, just night partol, nothing too dangerous."

"Wait night patrol? It's only two."

"Angel, it's 10 pm here."

"Oh, right." Of course there would be a time difference, but I didn't expect it to be so far apart.

"I've got to go. I love you. Oh! Can you pass on a message?" Collins asks with realization.

"Um sure honey, what is it?"

"Tell Roger that he's a freaking bastard." Collins laughed. "Alright, bye my love, I promise I'll talk to you soon, that's a promise.

"Bye Collins, be safe." I said a little sad but knowing he had a job to do. I just wish that was grading papers here. In New York.

"I'll try." And with the last remark, the phone went dead.

I hung the phone up slowly, reassuring myself that he was going to be okay.

Yeah, he would be okay. I smiled a bit. Yeah, he would be alright, I believe in him.

* * *

><p>ok i know it was really really short but the next chapter will be better. i promise. review please. also i do not own rent. i guess i should have put that at the top.<p> 


	10. Care and Packages, New News

A/N: Okay, well, being a dumbass that I am, I drank two entire 24oz Monsters at 12 am. I know right. Well I couldn't sleep, so this is what you get. A new updated chapter of DOTM. Yay for you, tired for me. So I am now going to write this until I pass out. Which is likely. Happy reading.

Disclaimer: I dont own RENT. Point blank.

* * *

><p>(3 months later)<p>

Grueling months went by, yet the couple stayed in contact. Angel no longer settled for worse, but instead, looked forward for the better. Collins kept Angel financially afloat with steadily flowing paychecks, and Angel always kept his spirits up with news about the bohos. But as time came and passed Angel somehow felt that she could do more...

"There has to be more I can do!" Angel protested.

"I don't think there is, Angel." Maureen said, eating a potato chip.

" There has to be! He's done so much for me, for us! He still pays the bills, and even got me a computer!"

"Angel, you and Mark got that computer." Joanne clarified.

" But he sent the money to get it! He still talk s on the phone, and it feels as if he's still here! He still does so much, there has to be something we can do!"

"Well," Mark said, grabbing Angel's laptop, turning it on, "We could always just use the internet."

"One problem with that, Mark. Angel doesn't have internet." Mimi said, looking at Mark.

Mark pulled out his smart phone, issued by Buzzline.

"I do, This phone comes with mobile hotspot."

"Hot what? What the hell is that?" Roger said, now looking at the phone.

"It means I can connect any device other than my phone to internet. You guys should upgrade."

"Sorry but Buzzline doesn't pay my bills." Roger said sarcastically.

"But it pays for your freaking captain crunch and milk and coffee." Mark retorted, and Roger went silent.

"Now, army wives and girlfriends must have done something to support their loved ones overseas."

"How are you going to search for something like that?" Joanne asked looking at the screen while Mark clicked on the internet icon.

"Google." Mark said as he typed in Google.

Mark searched for ten minutes, before he called back in the gang, where they were scattered about in Angel's loft. Angel came over first and looked over Mark's shoulder.

"What did you find?"

"It's a site for the military, its something people do in the US by giving their loved ones overseas things called care packages." Mark said going through many bookmarked sites.

"Well what exactly is it? Can you put sexy photos in it?" Maureen said eagerly.

"No Maureen. Here this is a PDF."

"A what?" Roger asked over Mark's head.

" A portable document format." Joanne said expertly.

"Yeah, it tells you what and what not to put in ," Mark said as he pulled it up.

"No pornographic items, Maureen. I think they would guess sexy pictures could count."

"Aw man, we all know Collins needs it." Maureen said excitement deflated slightly.

"But it says the entire package can be rejected. It says things like alcohol, drugs and things of the sort along with weapons and pornograhic items are prohibited."

"Well what can you put in it? All the fun has been banned." Maureen said snacking on another potato chip. Mark rolled his eyes at his ex before continuing.

" Well stuff like toiletries, uh, food, but no chocolate, simply cause it will melt, um here why don't you guys just look?" Mark said and everybody peered at the screen.

"They can have cards and letters and cd players? Well it looks like I'm going shopping!" Angel said happy that there was something she could do for Collins.

" Is there a way that we could bring that list with us?" Angel asked Mark as they prepared to leave.

"Um, I can't print it out, mainly because you don't have a printer, but I can send the URL to my phone." Mark said as he did it. Mark put on his shoes and met up with the bohos who were waiting for him.

* * *

><p>(2 weeks later)<p>

I closed his eyes, finally being able to rest after the mission. That was one hell of a patrol. Hadn't expected a group of armed talibans to try to infiltrate the base on my post. Anyways, it was over, and he could rest. I heard someone coming extremely close to my bunk and knew someone was standing over me. There were no CO's in my barrack, just people of same rank, so I knew I was able to express my tiredness.

"Whaaaat?What do you need? I'm off duty." I said exaggerating but not that much. I really was tired.

"Who gives a fuck if you're off duty queer?"

My eye pops open murderously at the word 'queer'. One of the three words I hated. Fag, queer, and refering to Angel, fairy. I see Zmitch looking down at me sneering.

"Why in the hell are you even near me? Get the fuck out my face." I muttered.

"Fine faggot, but I don't think our new CO would not like to see missing soldiers in our squad."

"Fine, but call me queer or faggot again, and you'll be saluting our new CO with no teeth." I said looking at him sitting up. I couldn't stand the very site of him off duty, but we still had to watch each other's back on duty. This was a very awkward and strained work relationship.

"Ooh, is that a threat?" Nickolas Zmitch said taunting, but moving his face out of my space, wise choice.

"No, dumbass, its a fucking promise. " I say putting on my jacket and utility cap, and since I already had my pants uniform and boots still on, passing him as I walked out the door.

* * *

><p>We all stand in a uniformed line, as our new CO walks in. A seasoned man, worry and frown lines covers his head, but he looked young, well old to be a seasoned man in the military. Maybe 35, maybe a high guess at 40. He wore a small frown as he surveyed us, my arm starting to hurt since we've had our hands up in salute for the last fifteen minutes and counting. Hurry up and say freaking damnit!<p>

"At ease." The gruff man said, his voice displaying his disposition.

He paced in front of us, hands behind his back, staring in our eyes To say the least it was unnerving.

"Well, as you all know, First Sergeant Cory Hammonds, your former Commanding Officer was KIA last night, 0223. I will take his place, I am Sergeant Major Richard Burbanks. I will be replacing Hammonds, rest his soul. For now on you follow my orders. You are dissmissed." Burbanks said with a gruff reply.

We departed the area, particularly quickly wanting to go back and just rest.

" Hey! Collins!"

I turn around and see James. "Hey James, watsup?"

"What do you mean, we gotta strap up!" James exclaimed, utting his hand on my shoulder, pulling me in the opposite direction of the cozy barracks.

"But I juat got off duty!" I exclaim.

"Doesn't matter, entire Delta team's being shipped out."

"Where?"

"To the city."

* * *

><p>So, what happened was I passed out. Yep. Then woke up and forgot to upload it. Enjoy and review. Next is City Firefights, I think you'll enjoy, playing Call of Duty MW3 helps. Review my darlings!<p> 


	11. Briefed

I know its short... really short, but I felt this little bit needed to be in there. So here it is.

Jonathan Larson, you are da bomb! Seriously, really, rest in paradise sipping on pina coladas on a beach up in the great beyond. He owns all. Except my OC's, and I have a lot of them lol.

XxX

As I again load unto one of the many armored humvees taking us into Kabul, the city of which the base was on the outskirts of, a mere twenty miles out.

I knew that the actually peaceful city Kabul had been constantly under attack of the Talibans and Haqquani, but, today I never thought I was going out of base, or from its vicinity either.

"Alright a little debrief! Team Delta, you have four objectives! One! Secure POI, Muhammad al- Bayid! Two! Save civilians as possible. Friendlies! Last thing we need is for them to revolt against our help! Three! Minimum casualties! I want some Taliban alive for interrogation! But free weapon! They point, you shoot, got it! And last I want each and every one of you pussies to come back to base got it!" MS Burbanks yelled over the roaring engine and noise.

"Exfil point is ten miles, LZ will be marked by blue flare, gunman support will be marked by red flare Green flare signals foot soldier support from NATO. So if you're in red smoke get the hell out of there. NATO back up is coming, so last until they fucking get there!" Burbanks instructed.

"Who is al-Bayid sir?" I ask.

"Confidential, son. Make sure he comes back, alive. Crucial Intel he's got. We want it, so does the Tali."

Burbanks said and I just nodded.

Burbanks took out a map of the area and a red pen.

"Me, Collins, Zmitch, Dorns and Rikers'll take the left flank and around the courtyard, through the buildings and up to third floor to where POI is at." He said markind certain areas of the map, circling a large building.

"Bridgers, Milkovich, Sontoya, Maldonado, Snow, Naku, Jeula'll take right flank to courtyard and provide backup and support until NATO green flare ETA 10 minutes after arrival."

Heavy weapon specialist Jabiel Maldonado, a tall muscular guy with muscles the size of potatoes, started asking questions.

"Yeah, when the green flare arrives, get on the roof and offer support for Blackbird and Warhammer. They are gonna need it."

II Private Jabiel Maldonado nodded and looked at the map.

"Where's Milkovich, Sontoya, Snow, Dorns, and Rikers?" I ask, wondering if we woild have to relay the entire plan to them.

"On the other humvee Private. They know the plan."

I simply nod, the older man seeming to know all the answers.

"ALRIGHT! ETA 2 MINUTES."

I sigh getting ready for the biggest mission I've had yet. I hope and pray to a god that I dont believe in to carry me back to base so I can call my girl, and tell her everything's fine.

The door opens and we shuffle out, ready.

It's time.

XxX

Ok, so I realized I do have a shitload of OC's so next chap will be character profiles, and then the firefight or vise versa, depending on what I write first. And trust me, making detailed character profiles for 15+ OC's is a daunting task. Including if there will be more further into the story...

Review my darlings! :3 and i will reward you soon.


	12. Retreat

The men retreat from the safety of the armored vehicles, as they assembled into respective groups, as experienced Burbanks lead his squad through the crowded streets of Kabul, through the thickets of broken buildings, flaming cars, and rubble, as the earth quaked as the enemy sent a mortar in their direction, the spray kicking up dust and gravel as shrapnel flung in every direction.

The squad evaded the deadly shrapnel, even as dust drifted up their nose, irritating their lungs and as flying pebbles stung their skin. Glass cracked underneath their boots with a crunch as they evaded enemy fire as they weaved through the courtyard…

II Private Jabiel Maldonado moved with his team as he carried the biggest badboys he could carry; the light machine gun PKP PECHENEG ready and loaded as it splayed bullets in a wave of smoke, gunpowder fumes and recoil as he provided backup , moving as efficiently at hip fire as he could with a JAVELIN rocket launcher on his back. He wasn't called a heavy weapons specialist for nothing.

"Raptor! Hurry we gotta get to the checkpoint!"

Out in the middle of the burning desert terrain, the group I was in was all huddled up in an Up-Armored Humvee, while the second group was in another. I was sitting in the back of the humvee, keeping my thoughts on the objective, my rifle, and the love of my life. The rest of the group also seemed to be keeping to themselves, even Burbanks. It's not like I knew any of these people well enough to talk with anyway, but it's been dead silent for awhile and we're almost at our destination point. I feel a nudge at my arm.

"You can cut the tension in here with a knife huh?" Jarid Dorn whispered over to me. Dorn was about the size of me, well-built, ranked as a PFC.  
>"Yeah..." I say back to him, still concentrating on my thoughts.<br>"C'mon, loosen up; don't stress yourself out before the action starts". He gives me another nudge.  
>I take a sigh, actually agreeing with what he's saying.<br>"Although you probably already know my name from the briefing, I haven't really introduced myself, names Jarid Dorn."  
>"Tom Collins."<br>"Great. Now that all that's outa the way, I totally got your back here Tommy boy, so no worries." Jarid says with a confident grin.

Tommy boy? That name didn't fit so well with me, but for some reason, it didn't bother me. The mood around this guy seems brighter than anyone in here, or in the army for that matter. My shoulders were feeling less tense and I felt more focused after that. I give him a small smile and nod, the vehicle suddenly comes to a stop.  
>"We're here, get into positions stat! Rikers, keep me updated and keep that foot on the gas when we need it!" Burbanks orders, the group jumping out of the humvee while Rikers stays at the wheel.<br>I jump out into the suns blinding light, realizing that I'm in a desolate town. Buildings of sand and worn out concrete, almost like desert ruins.

"It'd be surprising if there actually were any civilians here..." Zmitch says in a low tone. His name is Frank Zmitch, I've only seen him a few times when I'm sent to the infirmary. I haven't been treated by him or anything but I hear he's a good doctor, when he feels like it anyway.  
>"Heh, if that's the case, then we don't have to worry about any civi casualties!" Jarid says, taking his comment seriously.<br>Burbanks walks in front of us and puts his hand to his ear. "...Roger. Begin searching the area immediately."

He turns to us with his rifle in hands. "Team 2 has reached their point. You know the objective, don't screw it up, move-"  
>Before he can finish, a single shot is heard in the distance. We quickly take positions and aim our rifles, taking different directions.<p>

"Looks like those assholes are waiting for us and want us to come to them." Burbanks scowls, grinding his teeth.  
>"Stay close to me, take a side and cover it. Don't get shot like idiots."<br>"Yes sir." Jarid and I say in unison, while Frank gives a 'whatever' attitude.

I take the Major's left side, Jarid takes the right, and Frank takes the back as we start to move in to the city. The sun stops pounding on us as we make our way between buildings, occasionally passing abandoned wooden carts on the streets. The sidewalks have market stalls and easy to enter buildings, the carts also make good cover. I took note of all this in case a fight breaks down. I didn't see anything on top of the buildings on my side, and only heard our movements. Another shot is heard, digging into the ground right in front of the Major. We quickly rushed into one of the buildings on my side, and crouch under the window directed at the streets.

"Damn it Dorn! Quit being blind, that bullet came from your side!" Burbanks said with anger while he tried to look out the window.  
>"I'm sorry Maj! I didn't see anyone, I swear!" Jarid says, adjusting his binocular and looking out the window with it.<br>"They're probably trying to scare us by shooting randomly at us." Frank says, sitting down with his legs crossed.  
>"Im seriously not seeing anyo-" Jarid immediately gets back down, several shots flying through the window, broken glass starts to rain down on me. After things get quiet, we heard a foreign voice calling out a signal in a different voice.<p>

"We've landed right into their damn trap. Get your asses ready, we're going up this building." The Major checks his gun and gets up, us following him up the stairs. It's not before long we come up to the open sky, the sun hitting us closer than before. Suddenly, more shots are fired at us, we quickly scatter across the roof top, gunmen firing at us from roof tops across the street.

"Zmitch, fire at the other roofs, Collins and Dorn, cover his sides!" Burbanks shouts, going down the steps to cover the inside of the building.

I take my position next to a small stack of crates on one side of the roof top, noticing more men appear on the roof top. Most of them are armed with rifles and pistols, and begin to shoot at me. I duck behind the crates and take the first opening I get to take aim. I keep a firm grip on my rifle and pull the trigger. It rattles and shakes, shaking part of my body with it.

One goes down, another falls to the floor; I quickly get back down to reload. My hearts racing, my hands shake as I work with my weapon, I don't have any time to think about how many bullets that took to kill 2 guys before I get back and start firing again, thistime more focused and more accurate. I realize that there are more men without guns shooting at me, and are jumping across roof tops to get closer.

I only thought about focusing on where the gun fire is coming from and they were taking advantage of that. My guns empty again, and I duck at the bullets coming at me. I prepare another cartridge into my rifle, and spring back up, only to be choked by the neck by one of the jumpers.

His hands were getting tighter and tighter around my throat. All I could see was his pitch-black eyes looking down at me, enjoying the struggle I was in. I grab his hands, but I was running out of air. Using whatever I had left, I rammed my fist up to his chin, and push him off the edge of the building once he released his grip. I continued to spray bullets randomly out in front of me, grasping for air, but too dangerous to stop shooting.

There was no more gunfire, just plenty of footmen in front of me when I caught my breath. I started to walk back while shooting at them, bloody bodies hitting the floor. They kept pushing and the closer they were to me, the more dangerous they were, afterall I just had experience with that head on. More panic and fear started to grow in me my focused demeanor fading; the wave of men trying to jump me was still going strong. My back pushes up against something; I glance to the side and notice its Jarid. 

"I see things are good for you too huh?" He slips out with a pity.

I don't even have time to comment on it, but things are the opposite of good.  
>I feel a sharp burning sensation and screamed as something ripped through my flesh, my finger tightly wound on the trigger refusing to let go, even as the pain makes me want to drop to the ground as my injured arm seeped warm liquid down my arm and staining my camo.<p>

"Shit Man!" Jarid turns over and shoots a man holding a pistol. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!Come on C! We gotta go!" Jarid calls me and yanks me up by my other arm, and I realized that someone threw a grenade. We ran as fast as we could before the blast send the few ambush of T's away, their bodies black-faced and mutilated.

"Get him down those steps!" Frank ordered, Jarid gets in back of me and escorts/shoves me though the door of the roof. I take another breath and force myself to calm down; all I heard was gun firing and cries of Taliban protest, and the constant sound of gun firing and grenade detonating. I realized Jarid was escorting me down some steps on the side of the building, then into a small building which was our hiding point for now.

"you shit Faced loser Collins! Fucking bastard got shot too!" Major said angrily, even as he saw sporting cuts as well.

I seethe in pain as I shrug off my soldier jacket, seeing Frank open my wound.

I loudly swore, the pain ebbing away slightly before I see Frank holding a pair of pliers with a bloody bullet next to me. He throws it onto his bag before pulling out a bandage wrap and covering my wound tightly. I grab my arm over the lingering pain under the bandage, it feels numb; I can barely move it."GET A MOVE ON LASSIES!"

WE all get up, shrugging my coat on even if the pain in my arm is excruciating. We move out, radioing NATO to retreat as we backed out. WE were surrounded, too much of them and too little of us. We retreat, I feel glad, and sad as we retrace our step, firing back. With all the Jarhead mentalities out there, I felt slightly ashamed not being able to complete the mission, but glad as hell that I could go back to base and call my girl.

Small pops of gunfire soon past our team and I realize how fucking close we were to us all dying out there.

I flinch when I suddenly heard someone bang their fist into the exterior of the humvee. We all get inside and start to roll away.

"The fucking nerve of those dirtbags! Completely outnumbered, the other team was fucked over too, and the damn target got away after I tried to catch his ass, all in about a damn hour!" The pure rage was literally flowing out of Burbanks.  
>I looked at Frank sitting next to me,sighing he had his eyes closed, off in his little world probably. Rikers was driving in dead silence. Then I saw Jarid sitting in front of me, with his head low in disappointment, that's the only thing I could do too... I sighed when I suddenly heard a slump, looking up to see that Jarid had passed out and looks pale, a small trail of blood leaking down his seat.<p>

"Jarid!?" I shout out, I rush over looking at him pulling up hiss face to look at me. "Heybuddy Stay awake now...FRANK!" I yell as Jarid struggled to keep his eyes open before he passed out.

Burbanks snaps out of his rage and lifts up Jarid's shirt, only to reveal a bandage completely soaked in blood. Frank comes over to him and blocks my vision. What is happening? Why did Jarid not say anything about this! His bandage didn't even look proper, like he just stuck it on his stomach to stop the bleeding, which didn't work.

People were yelling out commands, Frank trying to stop the bleeding, his bare hands soaked in blood, Jarid then screaming in pain, woken by the pain tat had originally had him passed out.

The sensory overload was too much. My mid seemed to block out eyerthing as I closed my eyes everything turning into silence and nothing but black.


End file.
